School of Life
by RodeRozen
Summary: DISCOURAGED FROM READING DUE TO OOC CHARACTERS AND ROMANTICIZING OF SERIOUS PROBLEMS This was my first fanfic. In hindsight, it's kind of terrible, so the only reason I'm leaving it up is because some people might have enjoyed it and want to read it again. Please don't judge me on this fic. Also, no epilogue will be added; I'm just too lazy to put this info in the last A/N.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one**

"Home again," Harry breathed, a smile stretching his lips. Ron came to stand next to him, grinning as usual.

"What do you think, is someone going to try and kill us this year?"

"Ron!" scolded Hermione, "that really isn't a joking matter. Come on, let's get inside so we can sit at the far end of the table."

That got them moving. There would undoubtedly be first years who hadn't yet gotten the message that Harry was a person, not a superhero from a comic book. Therefore they always tried to sit at the far end of the table, far from the sorting hat.

The only disadvantage to that was that they'd be right next to the Slytherins.

"Hey Potter," sneered Draco Malfoy, who unfortunately was at the end of his table and so only two metres removed from them, "heard anything from you dog – uh, godfather – recently?" It wasn't a very creative insult, but as the object of his taunting was still grieving, that wasn't really necessary.

Hermione balled her fists under the table, wanting to punch the smirk right of the arrogant blond's face. As that would cause quite a scene, she settled instead for squeezing her best friend's hand.

Her other friend, however, was not as good at controlling himself and lurched forward, trying to do what she'd envisioned. Grabbing Ron's arm, she forcefully pulled him back.

"Don't draw attention to us!" she hissed. Harry would have enough admirers to deal with in their common room as it was. Reluctantly, Ron settled down.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. Or, to most of you, welcome back. For first years: no one is allowed to go into the forbidden forest. You are also not allowed to use magic in the hallways. Those are the most important rules. Anyone who wishes to see the full list of thing you are not allowed to do: it is placed in Mr. Filch's office, where you can look it over anytime. Now," continued Dumbledore, "I'm sure a lot of you have heard of the incident at the Ministry of Magic right before summer break. I also suspect some of you are very eager to hear the details first-hand. I must insist, however, that you leave the young Mr. Potter and his friends alone, as I am quite certain they have more important things to do than recount those events. Homework, for example, which will be very special for some of our sixth years. This year, I am pleased to announce that nine of them have been chosen for a project called School of Life. Those students will find a message on their beds and an empty period in their timetables. Now, let the feast begin!"

"Did he really have to mention me?" groaned Harry.

"If it doesn't work, you always have your cloak," advised Ron.

"The hordes will trample him if he wears that in a crowded hallway," Hermione absently said. She was wondering what the School of Life could possibly be. And why only nine students would be allowed to attend. Ron smirked.

"Come on, Hermione! You're not going to find out until later, and you haven't eaten anything yet." With a start, she realised he was right. Just when she reached out for a piece of ham, everything disappeared.

"Already?" she said.

"Um, hate to break it to you, but you've been silent for more than forty minutes," Harry replied.

"Now she'll have more room for dessert," Ron butted in.

"Sure," the witch in question mumbled without actually scooping anything on her plate. Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed a muffin and pushed it against her mouth. She seemed to awaken at that, grabbing it and staying alert until they were allowed to go back to their dormitories.

Opening the door of her dormitory, Hermione immediately noticed there was a letter with her timetable. Excited, she went downstairs: they had agreed to meet up there.

"Do you have a letter, Hermione?" asked Ron. The two boys where already seated on one of the couches, Harry warily scanning the room for any overenthusiastic fans.

"Relax, no one's going to bite you," she said. "And yes, I do. What about the two of you?"

"I don't," Ron replied. "Harry does though, right mate?"

"Yeah. I'm a bit worried though. The Triwizard Tournament was also a 'project'..."

"Only one way to find out," she said, and tore open the envelope.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected for our new project. This project will include lessons about parenting and managing a household, as well as a lot of hands-on practice, and an experience you will never forget. Please do not unpack your belongings, or if you have, place them back in your trunk, as you will be relocated with the rest of your group tomorrow. During the course of the School of Life the three of you are going to live together in a small dorm._

 _The empty period in you timetable is reserved for practice or lessons. Tomorrow you will have to go to the empty classroom next to the great hall before breakfast. Everything is going to be explained then._

 _Goodnight,_

 _Professor McGonagall_

"Does that make any sense to you?" Hermione asked.

"No, and Harry and I won't be in the same dormitory anymore!"

"Sorry, Ron. I don't think we can skip this project. Hopefully we will be in the same group though, right?" Harry said, glancing at Hermione.

"I hope so, too. Who do you think would be the worst person the two of us could get paired up with?" she asked.

"Malfoy!" Harry and Ron chorused, to which she rolled her eyes. She should've known. Their arch-enemy since first year wasn't exactly well looked upon by any Gryffindor, but Harry harboured a special dislike for him, largely due to his father trying to kill Harry two years in a row. It was a good reason, but she was always sad to see anyone so...corrupted as Draco. He didn't choose to be born in a family like the Malfoys, and she had to keep reminding herself that he was evil with a capital E.

"I'm going to bed," announced Harry. "See you tomorrow at breakfast?"

"Of course. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!"

TUESDAY

Hermione entered the normally empty classroom next to the Great Hall. Inside were Zabini and Malfoy, the two obnoxious Slytherins, Theodore Nott, also a Slytherin but more of a loner, Neville, who she waved at, and Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw who had been in the DA. Just as she and Harry sat down, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott joined the group. Both were ex-members of the DA. In fact, everyone except for the Slytherins was.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick soon appeared at the front of the class.

"Now," began McGonagall, "you will first be divided into groups of three. Then, you will all drink a de-aging potion. This will turn one of you into a five-year-old. The other two will turn into children two and four weeks later, so you'll only have one child at a time. The remaining students of your group will be the parents.

You are not allowed to have anyone babysit your charge, unless you ask one of us for permission beforehand. The goal is to teach you all a little about parenting. Why the nine of you were chosen, we will announce after this project is over. In the lessons here, we will help you with any questions as well as teach you how to discipline a child and so on.

You will live, as previously stated, in small dorms. To get there, you simply say 'Directus Dormis' and your wand will guide you. Your charges are not allowed to practice magic, nor are they allowed possession of their wands. Professor Snape will now list the groups."

"Right. Before I begin," Snape warned, "I want everyone to know that these groups were handpicked by us and will under no circumstances be changed. Also, a secondary goal here is to promote interhouse friendships. Therefore, at least two houses will be present in each group."

At that, Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried look. It seemed they wouldn't be paired up with Neville.

"Okay, so the first group is Terry Boot, Susan Bones and Theodore Nott." The three students rose and were each handed a potion.

"Second group consists of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." Numbly, they got up and accepted their potions, ignoring the death glare Malfoy was shooting them.

"And the third group would be Blaise Zabini, Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom."

They, too, were given the potions.

"Now, if you'd please drink these?" Professor Sprout asked.

Tossing one last dirty stare their way, Malfoy drank it. So did Harry and Hermione, but nothing happened at all.

"Now, this may take a while to kick in. Please go directly to your dorms once one of you is a child. Clothes should shrink along with the person, just like those in your trunk. The best of luck."

With those parting words, Professor Sprout and the other teachers exited the room.

Just moments later, Hermione heard a small voice to her right ask:

"Where am I?"

Turning around, she saw an adorable Draco Malfoy. Crouching down, she softly murmured:

"You're at Hogwarts, Draco. Dumbledore contacted you parents, and they said you could go. Think of it as a holiday."

"They really said I could go?" the child quietly asked.

"They sure did. I'm Harry, and this is Hermione," her best friend said, also crouching down. Looking scared all of a sudden, Draco backed off, his lower lip wobbling.

"Hey, what's wrong? We're going to care for you as long as you're here." she soothingly said.

"But that's Harry Potter! My parents told me he's bad." Sharing a concerned look with the person in question, Hermione shushed:

"He's not bad. He's my best friend, and he defeated the bad wizard five times now. It's thanks to him that a lot of people aren't dead."

"Really?" asked Draco. "I'm safe?" Feeling her heart squeeze, she picked the child up and hugged him.

"Yes, you are. We won't let anyone hurt you." Reaching for her wand, Hermione found she now had two: hers, and Draco's. Securely storing the latter away, she said:

" _Directus Dormis."_ and a small arrow appeared. Falling into pace next to her, Harry told the boy in her arms:

"We're going to our rooms now, and we will have breakfast there. Okay?" Draco stayed silent and just hugged her tighter. He didn't seem very comfortable around Harry at all.

"There we are," she said as the arrow stopped in front of a portrait picturing a teenage girl underneath an apple tree.

"Hello. As you are Hermione, Harry and Draco, you need to choose a password," the girl said.

"Jar of honey," answered Harry. The portrait swung open.

The living room was clean and tasteful, but nothing really stood out. A large couch, a desk-like table with chairs and some shelves were present, all in very neutral colours. She saw three doors, one of which she assumed led to a bathroom. But why did they only have two bedrooms for three persons? Shoving those worries aside, she opened the door closest to her and saw a small bed and a trunk. Very basic and clean. She liked it.

"This is your room, Draco," she said. Nodding, the child hid a little deeper in her arms. Frowning, she opened the second door. It was a simple bathroom, but did have a bath. The last door revealed a rather large double bed with two trunks, one of which she recognised as hers. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. They couldn't very well discuss their sleeping arrangements with Draco present.

Walking back to the living room, Hermione noticed there was breakfast on the table. Putting Draco down in the chair next to her, she began eating. No one said anything, but when she looked to their charge, he was not eating.

"Draco," she gently said, "are you not hungry?"

"I am," he answered, "but no one said I could start eating." Concerned, she said:

"You never have to wait here, okay? If it's mealtime, you can just start." Keeping his head down, the child nodded and, with perfect table manners, began eating. Hermione wondered what kind of parents he must have had to be so subdued. It really wasn't normal for a child.

After breakfast, the three of them headed to their first class.

"Brr...was it this cold last year?" Harry complained. Hermione snickered.

"Yes, it was. You say that every year!"

"That's because every year I hope those bloody lessons will disappear."

"Harry!" she indignantly said, turning toward him. "Watch your language, for one, and also, it's really important that we learn how to brew potions, anti-venom for example!"

"Okay, okay! I'm just saying, for some reason I seem to attract bad grades here."

"I'd agree that Snape is a tiny bit prejudiced, but still."

"A tiny bit?! Come on, Hermione!"

"Snape? Do you mean Sev?" the child in her arms piped up.

"Uh, yes. He teaches potions at Hogwarts, that's where we're going," she cautiously said.

"Yay! Do I get to see him?"

"Of course, Draco," Harry joined in, reaching out to ruffle the child's hair.

"No!" he cried out, tightening his grip on Hermione.

"Hey, shh. No one's going to hurt you. Not me, not Harry," she comforted him, rocking her arms back and forth.

"B-but everyone always hurts me!" the child protested. Stepping into a deserted part of the corridor, she let him down, crouching in front of him. Harry stood back.

"Draco, who hurts you?" she gently asked.

"D-daddy. And mommy. But it's just because I'm naughty! If I behave they won't, I know it!" he defended, tears rolling down his face. Gathering him up in her arms, Hermione forcefully said:

"It's never your fault. Parents are not supposed to hurt their children, no matter what. What your parents do to you is not normal, and it has to stop." The younger version of her enemy started sobbing, clutching at her robes.

"Do you have any marks? Bruises or so?" Harry asked as softly as he could.

"Y-yes. On my wrists, and my back," he sobbed.

"Harry, why don't you go get Snape. I'll stay here with Draco." Scratching his head, her best friend walked off, obviously wondering how he was going to lure Snape away from his class.

Snape was explaining how his class better not add the frog-eyes before the cockroaches, or the cauldron would explode, when a rather flustered-looking Potter came in.

"Uh, Professor?" he said. "Could I speak to you in private?" Raising his eyebrows, Snape gestured for the boy to go into his potion ingredients storage.

"What is it?" he curtly asked.

"It's about Draco. He's in no state to go anywhere, and we suspect", the boy swallowed, "we suspect he's got some marks on him from his parents. He told Hermione so."

"Take Mr. Malfoy to my office. I'll be there soon," the teacher said, cursing himself to hell and back for not noticing.

In the hallway, Hermione saw Harry approaching. She got up, Draco still cradled in her arms, and worriedly asked:

"Well?"

"He told us to go to his office." Silently they did.

"Professor?" Harry asked, knocking on the door.

"Come in," Snape said, opening the door. "Now, what happened to Mr. Malfoy?" Hearing his name, the child looked up.

Walking to the other end of the room so he wouldn't hear, Harry spoke:

"We haven't actually seen them, but he told us he has marks on his wrists and back, and each time I move too close to him, he gets very scared. He also said it's his fault, that he isn't good enough and so on."

"Draco," Snape said, moving closer to him, "can I see those bruises?" Sobbing harder, the child pulled his sleeves up. Everyone in the room pulled in a harsh breath. A large hand-like mark curled around his wrist. Snape nodded. To Harry and Hermione he said:

"I'll report this to the headmaster. Draco," the child looked up at him, "you are perfectly safe here. No one will hit you, okay?" Sniffling, he gave a teary nod up at his guardians.

"I'm sorry for crying." Tightening her arms around him, Hermione whispered:

"You never have to apologize for crying, Draco."

"She's right," Harry said, moving closer and tentatively laying a hand on his head, "we sometimes cry too."

"When was the last time you cried, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked in a scathing tone. Although Hermione levelled a death glare at the callous professor, Harry calmly answered:

"When my godfather died, Sir. He was the only family I had who did not make me live in a cupboard and didn't treat me like a house-elf." The answer was perfectly polite, but Snape still flinched.

"Right. Now, class is almost over, so I suggest you go to the next one."

Turning their backs on him, Harry and Hermione walked out, an unnoticed tear sliding down Harry's cheek.

 _ **A/N:**_

Hi guys! The original idea of a Parenting Class belongs to IcyPanther. You should go read her fic Parenting Class, because it's amazing.

I just wanted to say that I've got a pile of pre-written chapters, so for the next eight or so I won't be able to use suggestions/tips. If you've got any for later on in the story, go right ahead! I'd love to hear what you think.

Please leave a comment if you've read this, it's really motivating.


	2. Chapter 2

Entering the Charms classroom, Hermione immediately noticed a tiny Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. They were absolutely adorable. The next thing she saw was ginger hair, and she went to sit next to Ron. Harry sat on her other side, Draco in her lap.

Professor Flitwick, as usual on a pile of books, clapped his hands and announced:

"Today we will be working on water magic. The first spell we will learn is how to have water stream out of our wands." A number of girls giggled at the unintentional innuendo: Hermione doubted Professor Flitwick read a lot of romance novels, and so he looked a bit surprised.

"Now, the incantation is 'Aguamenti'. We will aim to fill this", he conjured a large basin out of thin air and had it drift to the middle of the class, "by the end of the lesson. You will all work together. Begin!"

Hermione groaned. She suspected an awful lot could go wrong here.

Ron, overexcited as usual, was already standing next to the basin and waving his wand, saying:

"Aguamenti!" For some reason, however, the water splashed onto his face.

"He's got his wand upside down!" Harry exclaimed. Casting a quick drying charm on her friend, Hermione joined him near the basin, having sent Draco off to go play with Susan and Hannah.

"You okay?" she asked Ron. Harry was still snickering.

"I'm fine. Thanks for drying me." he answered, while giving Harry a push against his arm. The latter whirled around, water still flowing out of his wand and spraying over the whole class. Everyone rushed to perform drying charms. Professor Flitwick rolled his eyes and went back to grading their summer assignments, long used to the chaos.

When the basin was finally full, Professor Flitwick said:

"Now read the chapter about water spells in your book. I want half a metre on what went wrong here, how to fix it and other possible spells by Thursday."

Completely immersed in their books – or, in Harry's case, doodling on his notes – neither of the teenagers noticed the three children sneaking toward the basin, which no one had bothered to empty: after all, what could go wrong?

"Eeek! NEVILLE!" a child's loud sobs could be heard. Looking up, Hermione noticed a panicked Neville and slightly reluctant Zabini hurrying to the front of the room, where Hannah had fallen in the basin. Hermione doubted her own thoughts, though, when she saw just how high the thing was. There was no way a child would fall in just from leaning over the edge, which was what she had assumed Hannah'd been doing.

"Um, Hermione?"

"What?" she snapped at her best friend, who was interrupting her train of thought.

"Where's Malfoy?" he asked. Harry using Draco's last name alarmed her. He wouldn't have...Okay, so the Malfoy they knew would have, but he'd been turned into a five-year-old!

"I don't know! D'you think he did this?"

"Who else?"

Hearing a devilish snickering that sounded a bit too much like the cold, callous face that had called her 'mudblood' so many times, she looked around, trying to determine its location. And there, behind Professor Flitwick's stack of books stood the devil she'd wanted to believe had been turned into an angel. Looking her squarely in the eye, he placed his hand against the pile.

Eyes widening, Hermione reacted quickly.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she shouted, pointing her wand at Professor Flitwick. Two things happened at the same time. One, Malfoy, betrayal flashing in his eyes, pushed against the books. Hard. Two, Professor Flitwick gave a very girly shriek as he was suspended in the air.

With a loud crash, both he and the books came tumbling down.

"Ouch!"

"Oh my God, Professor, I'm so sorry!" Hermione called, running to assist him. On her way, she grabbed the wrist of their charge, fully intending to interrogate him later.

"Hey!" Draco called as he was dragged along.

"Shush, you," Harry said as he picked Malfoy up to prevent him causing any more mayhem. Meanwhile, Hannah had been charmed dry, Professor Flitwick picked up, and the basin emptied by a dangerous-looking Hermione. Harry almost felt sorry for Malfoy; she really wasn't in a good mood.

"Well," said Hermione once they had excused themselves and sat down in a corner of the classroom, "what did you do that for?"

"Do what?" the little boy cheekily replied.

"You were the one who made the pile of books tumble to the ground. Why did you do that, Draco?" He did not reply.

"Alright, then why did you shove Hannah into the basin?"

"Because she's stupid! And she was defending Susan."

"Draco, you cannot call people stupid. Now, why was she defending Susan?"

"I said Susan's aunt was a blood traitor and she didn't like it. So she is one too." Thoroughly disturbed at the child's casual use of such degrading terms, Hermione tried to remain calm.

"And just why did you call Susan a blood traitor?" she inquired, voice sharp as a knife.

"Because she helps mudbloods!" Although it was obvious Draco was just parroting his family, she knew someone had to put an end to this. Now.

"Listen up. You do NOT call anyone 'mudblood' or 'blood traitor'. Being muggle-born does not make someone dirty, nor does being friends with muggle-borns. Do you understand me, Draco?"

"No!" the child spat back.

"What your father told you is wrong, Draco. Why do you believe him? He hurts you. And you are hurting other people by saying those sorts of things."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are. Words can hurt, too. And your father has done a lot of bad things, Draco. Please don't be him." A tear leaked from the child's eye, and Hermione worried she might have pushed too far.

"I'm s-sorry. Do you hate me now?" he timidly asked. A thousand thoughts flew through her head. No, I don't hate you, I hate who you're going to become. As the little boy was oblivious to the turmoil behind her eyes, she simply answered:

"No, I don't. But you really shouldn't call people names. I'm a muggle-born, too, and you hurt me." Shock flashed across his features before he said:

"But you're nice."

"Why can't muggle-borns be nice?"

"Dad said they were filthy, animals really."

"As you can see, that is not the case. You father lied, Draco. Believe me," she implored.

"I do."

Smiling, Hermione gathered the child up in her arms and hugged him. If only she could keep this improved version of Malfoy when he turned back. She sighed, hoping he'd change at least a little bit. She'd be really sad to see this boy gone.

Walking to their next class, Harry and Hermione discussed this new development in hushed tones, not wanting their charge to hear.

"He's very young to be so prejudiced," Harry remarked.

"Yeah, but I can see where it came from. I mean, we know what his father's like," Hermione sighed.

"True. Still, he's almost brainwashed. It makes me...see things from a different perspective."

"I know. I'm hoping he'll remember this and change a bit later, but I highly doubt that," she said.

"It's a shame we can't keep him like this. Hey! Maybe we should just Obliviate him once he's back to the arrogant prick we know," the-boy-who-has-stupid-ideas suggested.

"Harry! That won't help, either!"

"I know. Still, it's a nice dream." Indignantly, she lightly shoved at his arm. Someone really needed to remind her of why she kept this idiot around. Oh, right. She loved him, in the brother-sister way, of course. Just the thought of another way nearly made her gag. No, no, no. Things were fine the way they were.

Right?

It was just that she sometimes felt a bit lonely, being the only female member of the Golden Trio. Harry and Ron were amazing, but they sometimes just didn't...get it. But then it wasn't like she'd ever met anyone who really did, male or female. It wasn't really her friends' fault either, but each time they laughed when she returned her 'bedtime reading' to the library – which usually happened to be some kind of non-fiction, preferably with a lot of pages – it hurt just a little bit. Even when she had believed herself to be a muggle, Hermione had always been on the outside with her books. Make-up, gossip and those other things girls should like just weren't her thing. That didn't make her very popular with the other girls at her previous school, and so she took to bringing books with her to read during breaktime. Smiling wryly, she remembered she'd hated all genres magical or fantasy-like.

Look where she'd ended up. Oh, the irony.

"Draco, we're going to Herbology now. You are absolutely not allowed to touch any plants, because they are very dangerous," Harry informed their charge. Merlin, why hadn't she thought of that herself? Malfoy seemed like an obedient child – although she didn't like to think of the likely reason for that – so maybe if they told him what he could and couldn't do, he'd listen.

"I'll be bored," the child grumbled. Right. Were they really expecting a five-year-old to just twiddle his thumbs for a whole hour? Trying to get Snape's hair de-oiled had a higher success rate!

"What would you like to do?" she asked.

"Ehm...I'd like a colouring book?" he timidly said. Smiling, Hermione conjured a Magical Creatures Colouring Book up, as well as some coloured crayons.

"What are those?" Draco asked.

"Crayons. You use them without ink, and they can have lots of colours. It's a Muggle invention," Harry answered for her. The child nodded happily and accepted the items, not showing any reaction to the Muggle part.

"Okay everyone," Professor Sprout addressed her class, "today we will be studying Devil's Snare. Now, you've all seen the theory in first year, so who can repeat it for me?" Hermione's hand shot straight up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Devil's Snare traps you when you touch it. It reacts badly to light and fire, so that's one way to escape. The second way is to relax. It will release you then."

"Very good! Ten points to Gryffindor. I have to say, Miss Granger, if I didn't know better I'd say you've escaped one of these before." Professor Sprout said with a twinkle in her eyes. Hermione managed to keep her expression neutral, while Harry and Ron started snickering. The three of them had, in fact, been trapped in a Devil's Snare before, and she was pretty sure Professor Sprout knew it.

"Now, today we will all try to escape one of those," Professor Sprout pointed to three holes with a Devil's Snare over it.

"You are not allowed to use magic; you will have to relax. Once you've fallen through, wait until there are four people in the hole. Then, use the portkey I will throw in to get out of there. If I see anyone using magic, fifty points will be taken from that house. If you are in real danger, I will free you myself." Nervous chattering rose up from the students as they all lined up in groups of four. Harry, Hermione and Ron were joined by Dean Thomas.

"First!" Professor Sprout shouted.

Hermione stepped forward and casually sat on the Devil's Snare. The plant tried to grab her at first, but soon relented when it didn't feel any tension. She fell through and, after gracefully landing on her feet, walked over to the empty space that did not have Devil's Snare above it. That way, no one would fall on her head.

"Help! It won't let go!" a familiar voice shouted from above. She rolled her eyes. In their first year, she'd had to force the plant underneath Fluffy to let him go, and it seemed he still hadn't learned.

"Ron, you have to relax, remember?" she admonished him. Several panicked cries later, the red-haired boy fell down in a giant tangle of limbs and robes. Hermione supressed a snicker.

"You should get out of the way, Ron. The next one will-" she was interrupted by 'the next one', a certain muggle-born called Dean Thomas who landed on top of Ron.

"Ouch!" he cried.

"Your own fault for not getting out of the way," the new arrival said, jumping over Ron and standing next to her.

"DRACO, NO!" Harry suddenly shouted. Looking up, Hermione saw both him and Draco fighting against the Devil's Snare.

"Incendio!" she shrieked, pointing her wand upwards. Moments later, both boys fell down, landing on Ron, who just groaned.

"Draco!" she called, rushing over to him. "Are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine," he hiccupped, hugging her.

"Why did you do that?" she gently inquired.

"Harry was in pain a-and I wanted to help," he cried. Holding him tight, she planted a kiss to the crown of his head, rocking back and forth.

"It's okay. No one was hurt, and Harry wasn't really in danger. If something went wrong, the Professor would have fixed it," she comforted.

"I'm so s-sorry," the child sobbed.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You meant well, and we're not mad at you. Okay?" she asked, looking him in the eye. He nodded and silently remained in her arms.

"I'm going to throw the Portkeys down," Professor Sprout announced.

Moments later, an old glove landed in their hole.

"Three, two one..." Dean counted down, and they all touched it. After a very uncomfortable whirling sensation, their little group landed in the Transfiguration classroom.

"Welcome. I do believe Professor Sprout has configured these", Professor McGonagall pointed at the portkeys that – a lot like the students – were strewn across the room, "to bring you to your next lesson. Please take your seats."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were walking toward their dorm – Ron wanted to see it – when they saw a familiar figure. Squealing, she ran toward him, hugging their former professor with all her might.

"Lupin! It's so good to see you!" Hermione exclaimed. Slightly overwhelmed by her enthusiasm, Remus Lupin was trying to pry her off when she was joined in the hug by Harry and Ron. Smiling, he put his hands in the air.

"I surrender, I surrender! And if I may ask... who's that?" he questioned, referring to the small boy who didn't quite dare to approach. Ron grimaced.

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione answered, releasing Lupin. "Harry and I were chosen for a parenting project, and he's the third member of our group." Turning to the child, she smiled and said:

"Come over here, Draco." Cautiously, he did, and she picked him up.

"What are you doing here?" Harry meanwhile asked. Turning back to the group, she curiously waited for the answer.

"Dumbledore has somehow managed to get me to come back here as a professor." He shook his head. "I swear, I don't know how he did it. Your headmaster has got some persuading skills."

"That I do," a sixth voice replied. Everyone simultaneously whirled around. The headmaster in question smiled at them.

"Although I seem to remember you were quite...easy to persuade, Remus," he tacked on.

"Well..."

"No, no. But, shouldn't the lot of you be in a class somewhere?" he asked them.

"We've got a free period, Sir," Harry replied without even a trace of awkwardness.

"In that case, would you please follow me to my office?" When three people turned around, he added:

"Not you, Mr. Weasley. I hope you don't mind babysitting their charge for a while?" Ron looked slightly miffed, but nodded.

"The password of our dorm is 'Jar of Honey'," Hermione added. "You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah, I do. See you later," Ron said, trudging off.

"Well, great to see you again," Lupin smiled. "I'll go unpack and leave the three of you alone."

With that, they were alone with their headmaster.

"What is this about, Sir?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you just yet, Harry. Wait until we get to my office." Not seeming nervous at all, her best friend nodded. She wondered if he really wasn't stressed, but then recalled the rather unique relationship he had with Dumbledore. Just why did she have to come along?

 _ **A/N**_

Okay, so I know I posted the first chapter less than an hour ago, but I'm hugely encouraged by the fact that someone has added my story to their favourites. Thank you so much, you're amazing! Depending on how fast I manage to write new chapters, I'll probably update once or twice a week. Should anyone be interested in beta-reading, I'd love to try that sometime, as this is the first fanfiction I've written.

Please comment!


	3. Chapter 3

"Attention, everyone," Dumbledore called. Hermione looked up from her thoughts, mind still reeling from the recent revelations. Harry, too, looked rather pale. A minute ago, silver lettering had appeared on her plate, saying:

" _If you are a 4_ _th_ _year or higher, please remain seated."_

Suspecting that this was not meant for children's ears, she had cast a quick 'Muffliato' on Draco, thus preventing him from hearing anything. Moments later, all first, second and third years had left the Great Hall. This had happened about ten minutes after Dumbledore had announced they had a new DADA teacher, and she could guess what it was going to be about.

"Most of you probably still recall the events of three years ago, no?" their headmaster went on. A general consensus chorused through the Great Hall.

"Then you all understand why you cannot talk about them, I trust? To ensure no one does, I will cast a harmless charm on all of you. It will prevent you writing anything down about those events, and also from revealing them to people who do not already know. This means you will find yourself unable to talk if you're trying to do so, and also if anyone who does not know is able to overhear your conversation." Standing up, Dumbledore readied his wand.

" _Ghym confidia_." At that, Hermione felt a lock arise in her throat.

"Thank you for your cooperation. You are free to go to class now." Checking her timetable, she saw that it was Defence against the Dark Arts. After she had removed the spell on Draco, the four of them walked to the classroom.

"Welcome," Lupin said once everyone was assembled. "Before we begin, I would like to ask if there is anyone in this group who has a problem with my... condition?" At that point, Hermione's heart broke. What was wrong with people? Luckily, the room remained silent.

"In that case, I have some nostalgia planned for the lot of you." Now there were mumbled protests from among the students. No one was very eager to escape Grindylows again. Neville, in particular, looked scared.

"Relax, everyone. We will be repeating the lesson on Boggarts today. Same exercise, same theory. Surely you can handle that?" The class chorused a yes.

"Harry, care to give us the theory again?" Lupin asked, eyes twinkling. The other students turned to look at him.

"Boggarts take on the form of our greatest fear. Ron's, for example, is a great, hairy spider."

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"Well done, five points to Gryffindor. And how do we defeat a Boggart, Ron?" Alarmed at suddenly being in the spotlight, he stuttered:

"We make it funny, and then humour beats it."

"What he means," Hermione corrected, "is that Boggarts feed on fear. The one thing they cannot stand is laughter. So, we envision our greatest fear as something ridiculous, and use the spell 'Ridikulus'."

"Correct, although I believe I asked Ron for the answer. Anyway, that is what we'll do. As I seem to remember you did not get a chance to try last time, care to demonstrate, Harry?" Harry stepped to the front of the line, and Lupin used his wand to release a Boggart from one of the drawers of his desk.

Which turned into Harry. Confused, Hermione watched as Boggart-Harry's eyes began to glow red. Then, his features changed, morphing into those of Voldemort...and back into his own. The class had started shouting and screaming and hurrying for the exit. Wanting to prevent total panic in the whole castle, Hermione used a silent spell to lock the door, which only intensified the screaming. Seeming unperturbed, Harry pointed his wand at Boggart-Harry and shouted:

"Ridikulus!" Immediately, the Boggart remained in the shape of Voldemort. Then, he began to sing in an awfully sweet voice:

"Voldy sends his love, Voldy, Voldy, Voldy sends his loveeeeeee!" While the thing was singing, it's nose began to grow...and grow...and grow, until the Boggart doubled over from the weight, sneezing pink hearts.

Harry was now roaring with laugher, but the rest of the class was working themselves into a frenzy trying to get out. Lupin, looking a bit more pale than usual, forced the Boggart back into the drawer, and tried to get his class to pay attention.

"Guys, that was a Boggart, and it's gone. Voldemort is not present in this classroom." No matter what he said, though, it did not help. It was at that point that Hermione began to wonder where Draco was. She, Harry, Ron and Lupin were still standing near the front of the class. The rest of the students were tumbling over themselves trying to get through a locked door. Looking at the three of them, Lupin suggested:

"Full Body-Bind curses, maybe?"

"Yep," agreed Harry.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione shouted, having heard what they were planning. One of the students fell down. The four of them repeated this until they were face-to-face with a pile of statues.

"Accio Draco Malfoy," Hermione said. A small statue came flying over. Catching him in her arms, she released the Body-Bind curse. The child immediately began to cry, and she rocked him back and forth. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron and Lupin were accio'ing one student at a time, explaining they were safe, and carefully releasing them.

That process took the rest of the lesson. When everyone was finally back in their seats – rightfully ashamed of their own cowardly behaviour – Lupin announced the class over.

"Thanks for helping me with those idiots," Lupin chuckled.

"So that's why Harry wasn't allowed to do this in third year," Ron said.

"Correct. I thought your Boggart was a dementor?" Lupin asked Harry, who averted his gaze.

"It was, obviously, but after Voldemort", Ron winced at the name, "possessed me last year, it changed. I never want to feel like a danger to my friends again. Knowing he could take over at any time..." Hermione realised the child really had no business hearing this, and gently nudged Harry, giving him a pointed look and glancing at Draco.

"You should probably get going," Lupin told them.

"We should," Hermione sighed. Surprising everyone, Harry once again hugged Lupin.

"Thanks for coming back," he whispered, voice breaking. Their once-again-professor returned the embrace.

"My pleasure. I really missed Hogwarts," he told Harry.

"And we missed you," he told Lupin.

"Lucky bastards," Ron grumbled. "You get to follow that new class, while I'm probably going to get eaten by whatever Hagrid's found this year."

"Ron! No insulting the teachers!" Hermione mock-scolded.

"Yeah, well, I'm still not sure why Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to let Hagrid teach. I mean, it's practically a free pass to get everyone in danger!" the redhead complained.

"I can get myself in plenty of danger, no help needed," Harry remarked dryly. Although it was meant as a joke, Hermione immediately sobered up. Not a year at Hogwarts had gone by without some kind of confrontation at the end, and she had the sinking feeling this year wouldn't be any different.

"So, how are you all managing?" Professor Sprout asked. "Mr. Boot, how is it going with your group?"

Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw, smiled and ruffled the hair of Susan, their charge.

"Very well, Professor. She's a real angel."

"I'm glad to hear it. Do you agree, Mr. Nott?"

The Slytherin petulantly turned away from his conversation with Zabini.

"Sure." Professor Sprout frowned.

"Mr. Boot, has your partner been helping you with your charge?" Terry blushed bright red, and mumbled:

"Not really, but I can manage."

"Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr. Nott. I do hope you will adjust your attitude, because otherwise I will be forced to take action. Miss Granger, how are things with the three of you?"

"Well, Professor," the young witch replied, "although there have been a few incidents."

"Such as?"

"He pushed Hannah into a basin during Charms, fell into Devil's Snare during Herbology and we got to know some of his...background and prejudices," she carefully explained.

"Would you like to add anything, Mr. Potter?"

"Can we keep him this way?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not," their professor laughed. "Now, Mr. Longbottom? Your thoughts on the past day?"

"Hannah's a real sweetheart," the round-faced boy smiled.

"Is Mr. Zabini cooperating with you?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he likes it," Neville said.

"Good to hear. Okay everyone, class is dismissed. Enjoy your extra thirty minutes!"

"Harry, could you take Draco back to the dorm? I forgot to ask Professor Sprout something," Hermione asked her friend minutes after they'd left the classroom.

"Sure, I'll see you there," he replied.

"Thanks!"

"Miss Granger? Is something wrong?" Professor Sprout asked her student, who had come barrelling around the corner.

"No, no. I just wondered...will the children remember this?" the girl asked.

"Yes, they will," the professor replied, and watched Miss Granger's face pale.

"Okay, thank you!" she said and ran off.

"Harry!" Hermione cried out as soon as she had entered their dorm.

"Is something wrong?" her best friend hurriedly asked.

"Not, really, but...Malfoy is going to remember this!" she said, close to hysterics. Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"That could be...problematic. Which curse do you think will hold him in place the longest?"

"Harry! This is NOT FUNNY! Oh, just imagine! He'll be so angry about what we've found out, we really shouldn't give him back his wand, I think, because who knows what he'll do to us!"

"Hermione, calm down. I do not want to petrificate you; I've done enough of that to last me a lifetime." said Harry.

Trying to calm her breathing, she eventually gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that. But, actually, where is Draco?" Both teenagers looked around the room for a moment, confused.

"Draco?" Hermione called out gently. The child timidly walked over to them, having been hiding behind the couch.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked, lower lip trembling. Picking him up and hugging him, Hermione wondered if she wasn't becoming a bit too attached.

"You haven't, sweetie. I'm panicking for no reason," she assured him. Nodding solemnly, Draco wrapped his arms around her.

"Meow." A bundle of fur jumped up and nestled itself against Hermione.

"What's that?!" Draco cried out.

"Hermione's cat," Harry answered. "His name is Crookshanks."

"Why is he so ugly?" The cat in question took a swipe at Draco with its paws.

"Aah!" the boy cried.

"Bad Crookshanks! Are you alright, Draco?"

"F-fine," he sniffled, looking up at her. She reluctantly smiled at her charge.

"Let's go have dinner, or McGonagall will have us," Harry said, snapping her out of it.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Because we're expected to eat dinner in the Great Hall, and she'll be keeping a close eye on us," her best friend tried to explain without giving away too much.

"Why?" the child persisted. Harry just shook his head and lifted him through the portrait hole.

Hermione spotted a small table in the Great Hall, just big enough for nine or ten people. Although she hated to hold Harry – who was already walking toward Ron – back, she tugged on his sleeve.

"I think we're supposed to be sitting over there." With an apologetic smile to their friend, they walked toward the other chosen students. Susan and Hannah both studiously avoided looking at Draco.

"Hey Neville," said Harry.

"Hi Harry. Looking forward to the rest of the project?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Not really, but it's not as if we've got a choice, is it?" sighed Neville.

"Did you know we get to keep our memories of our time as a child?" Hermione asked.

"No, really? That's gonna be fun afterward!" said Terry, who had joined the conversation.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked. The two girls were talking animatedly and making no effort to include him. Given, that was probably his own fault, but still.

"A school project," Hermione quickly said. "Now, what would you like to eat?"

"Nothing," he said, somewhat petulantly.

"Aren't you hungry?" Harry asked, interrupting his conversation with the other students. Draco seemed to wither under her best friend's glare. It wasn't as bad as it had been, but Hermione still didn't like it. She really was getting too attached to this child, who was merely an illusion. Draco had never been this way, and he never would.

"I don't want to sit here," he eventually admitted.

"Why not?" she asked, surprised.

"Because if I'm not in Slytherin, it makes me weak," the child seriously said. Hermione swore under her breath. If she ever ran into Lucius Malfoy again, she was going to pummel him to death.

"Draco, not being in Slytherin doesn't make you weak. Not living up to traditions doesn't, either. My godfather", Harry visibly swallowed, "well, his family thought he was weak because he was in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. But he was one of the strongest, bravest men I've known."

"Was?" the boy inquired.

"Yes, was. He died fighting an evil witch," Hermione said quickly. She knew this memory was a very painful one for Harry – who, having recovered from the topic at hand, added:

"But we all have weak moments, Draco. And it's important that you have friends or family to support you. If you try to fight alone, you'll always lose." This was obviously a message meant for the older Malfoy, and Hermione was grateful that her best friend got it.

"Hermione, would you read me another book?" Draco asked.

She and Harry were writing their essays for Professor Flitwick. At least, Hermione was. She was not at all sure her companion was actually getting anything done. But this was the only homework they'd gotten today – well, except for that currently sitting on the couch – and she wanted it over with. Work would just start to pile up otherwise. It was a lesson she doubted her friends would ever learn. Idly, the young witch wondered how Malfoy handled his homework. She would bet he just bribed someone else to do it.

"Sure," she said, flicking her wand so that the book he was holding out to her would start reading itself. It was a handy little charm, and it kept Draco from getting in trouble while she did her homework.

"There, all done," Harry breathed. Hermione looked up from the book she was reading to Draco; her own homework was long done, and it was actually quite nice to read to someone. The child seemed genuinely interested in the more serious books. Right now, she was reading him 'Hogwarts: a history', and he was captivated. She hoped he wouldn't outgrow this curiosity. It was refreshing.

"Great," she said, "then you can help me give Draco a bath." The looks on both boys' faces were extremely comical.

"I don't want a bath." complained Draco.

"I just want to go to bed, Hermione," Harry sighed, and she had to fight not to giggle.

"Both of you, to the bathroom. Now," she commanded in what she hoped was a stern voice. Almost identical expressions of discontent on their faces, they did as they were told.

Too tired to bother with taps, Hermione simply used a more advanced water spell to fill the whole tub with foamy water and bubbles. She's read about it earlier for her essay, and it definitely came in handy now. His previous bad mood forgotten, Draco squealed and tried to jump in.

"Hey there!" Harry protested, holding him back. "You still have your clothes on!"

"But it takes so long to remove them!" the child sputtered, excited to get into the tub. Smiling, Hermione discreetly waved her wand, causing Draco's clothes to vanish and throw themselves in the hamper.

"Where did you learn that?" Harry asked her as their charge played with the foam.

"A book on household magic. There were a lot of interesting things in it," explained Hermione. She did not, however, mention why she had remembered this particular spell. Meanwhile, Harry was squirting shampoo onto Draco's head and gently massaging it in.

"There, all done," he said, using his wand to rinse the soap out. Draco jumped out of bath and right into the towel Hermione had smartly grabbed.

"Careful, there," she admonished. "Come on, let's put your pyjamas on." Looking around, though, she saw no trace of them.

"Harry, are there any pyjamas in Draco's trunk?"

"I'll go look," said Harry, returning moments later and shaking his head.

"I didn't find any. I guess..." he trailed off, but as Hermione was the brightest witch of her year, she got what he was trying to say and nodded.

"I'll just transfigure the towel, then." So she did, and Draco now wore a pair of black-and-grey pyjamas, deliberately House-neutral.

"Let's get you into bed," murmured Hermione.

"And they lived happily ever after," Hermione concluded. She had just finished reading Cinderella to Draco. He didn't seem sleepy yet, though.

"Cinderella just waited for others to rescue her," the child remarked.

"She did. It's not a good example, is it? Most muggle fairy-tale princesses aren't. There's one tale, though, that's a little different."

"Can you read it to me?" the child asked.

"I don't think we have that particular book, actually. But I can tell you. Stories are better that way, I think," she conspiratorially whispered.

At Draco's enthusiastic nodding, she began:

"Once upon a time, there was a wealthy merchant with a wife and three daughters. They were very rich, and had everything their heart desired. The merchant loved his wife and daughters, and worked hard so that they would never be poor.

One day, though, the merchant's wife became very ill. She died a week later. Grief made the merchant reckless, and he lost all their money in risky trades. He and his three daughters had to go live in a cottage near a small village, because they didn't have money for anything else.

The youngest daughter was called Beauty. She had never liked the gorgeous dresses and lavish parties, and was quite content to live as a farmer. Beauty fed the chickens and milked the goats, baked bread and cooked up stews. Her two older sisters did not appreciate her. They treated her badly, and did nothing but sit inside all day and mourn their previous lives.

A few years passed. The merchant got a message that some of his wares had returned, and went off to the big city. Before he departed, he asked each of his daughters what they would like him to bring back. The oldest daughter asked for a new dress. The middle daughter asked for jewellery. When asked what she wanted, Beauty replied she only wanted her father's safe return. He insisted, however, and eventually she asked for a red rose. They had had a rose garden in the city, and it was the one thing Beauty missed.

Weeks went by with no word from their father. When he finally returned, the merchant looked haggard and tired. Sitting his daughters down, he handed Beauty the most gorgeous red rose. All his money had already been gone, he said, but there was something far worse.

The merchant had ended up in a snowstorm and taken shelter in what had seemed like an abandoned castle. There had been hay and water for his horse, though, and food and a bed for him. There had not been anyone around, and the merchant had hesitantly eaten the food and slept in the bed. After eating breakfast the next day and saddling his horse, he had noticed a rosebush in the gardens. Remembering Beauty's request, he plucked one.

Right then, a looming beast had thrown him to the snow. It had roared that he should not have plucked the rose, and that as payment, one of his daughters should return to the castle in a week's time, or else he would kill the merchant. Fearing for his life, the merchant agreed.

Upon hearing this, Beauty said that as she was the one who had asked for the rose, she would go to the castle.

When Beauty and her Father arrived at the castle, the Beast was nowhere to be seen. In the room where the merchant had slept the previous night, they found a table set for two. Together they ate, and then the merchant left. Beauty was alone in the castle. Tired and sad, she did not get up, but started to cry. The Beast, who had been lurking in the shadows the whole time, saw this. He stepped into the light and told Beauty to follow him. Scared but determined, Beauty kept her eyes on the floor. After a while they arrived at a door with Beauty's Room written on it in shiny, gold letters. When she looked up, Beauty found the Beast had already left, and went into her room. It was a gorgeous room with many luxuries, but Beauty did not care. She just wanted to be home again. Without removing her dress, she fell asleep on the soft bed.

The next day, Beauty stayed in her room and cried. She knew it would not help, but she was very sad. Her family had meant everything to her, and she missed them already."

Hermione noticed Draco was starting to fall asleep, and gently kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. G'night, 'Mione," the child mumbled. Amused at what he'd called her – 'Mione, really? – she whispered:

"Goodnight, Draco."

 _ **A/N**_

Hi everyone! So, this is the second third update for this week. To those of you who read, favourited, followed and reviewed this, thank you so much! I never imagined I'd receive this much response, and it means an awful lot to me. Now, I'm going to say it again: _the original idea for a Parenting Class belongs to IcyPanther._ I loved that fic, and you should go read it. I've tried to make mine as different from hers as I can, so should you find something I've copied too closely, do let me know.

A huge thank you to everyone!


	4. Chapter 4

"'Mione?" a child's quiet voice sounded near Hermione's ear. She turned around in her bed before remembering she actually had to look after the voice. Grudgingly, she sat up.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I'm hungry," he hesitantly said, as if afraid she'd turn him away.

"I know, sweetheart. Why don't you go wake Harry, and we'll have breakfast, okay?" she gently told him. Draco nodded and walked toward her best friend's bed – they had conjured another one – soft footfalls resounding through the room. Hermione smiled.

"Look, it's Harry Potter!"

"Do you see his scar?"

"His hair's in front of it!"

"Think he'd give me a signature?"

"Harry," Hermione hissed, "flock of fans coming out of the right hallway."

"Ugh," Harry groaned. They'd managed to avoid any first-years so far, but this lot seemed...rather determined.

"I'm going on to the-" Hermione tried to say, but it was too late. They were surrounded by overexcited fans.

"Harry Potter!" one of them squealed.

"Can we see your scar?" another piped up.

"Sign here, please!" a small boy demanded, pushing his way to the front. A few of the older students were watching the spectacle.

"Need help?" a certain redhead asked.

"Ginny!" Harry called, sounding relieved. He started trying to get out of the cluster of fans, but they just pushed him farther back. Hermione cringed slightly. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"Harry doesn't look very pleased," someone said. Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder and whirled around, Draco still in her arms.

"Ron! You scared me!"

"Sorry. How did this happen?" he asked, glaring at Draco all the while. Hermione shoved him.

"Stop that!" she snapped, without answering his question. Ron shrugged and went back to watching. Draco held on a little tighter.

"STOP IT!" Harry roared. Frightened, the first-years backed off.

"I am NOT some spectacle. I am a PERSON!" her best friend all but shouted. Some of the other sixth-years came to stand next to him. The first-years scrambled away.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for shouting in the hallways," a lazy voice drawled. Not granting Snape a response, Harry just stamped on to the Great Hall. Sharing a concerned look with Ron, Hermione followed after him.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. Harry had not touched any food, and seemed to be brooding, which was never a good sign.

"Mate, they got what they deserved," Ron clumsily tried to comfort his friend.

"Hi, Harry," Katie Bell said. They were seated at the Gryffindor table, as breakfast and lunch were not as formal as dinner, and students often switched tables to be with their friends.

"Hey, Katie. What's up?" Harry answered cheerfully enough, but to Hermione it sounded a bit forced.

"When are the tryouts for the team? I mean, nearly all of our players graduated."

"Today, actually, but I wanted to talk to you about something else," Harry said. Leaning in so that Malfoy wouldn't hear, he muttered:

"I'm going to be turned into a child in two or four weeks, and I'd like you to take over as Captain for that time."

"But we don't even know if I'm going to be on the team!" she protested. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course you are. I've seen you play for five years!"

Grumbling, Katie let it drop. She and Harry talked about Quidditch a while longer, until Hermione interrupted them.

"Uh, Harry? We've got Potions in ten minutes," she said.

"We should go," he told Katie, "see you at the tryouts!"

"I don't want to go back to classes," Draco whined, "it's boring." Hermione was trying to get him to eat lunch, but the child proved very stubborn.

"I know, Draco," Harry said, "I think it's boring too."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded. "Classes are very important!"

"But I'm too young to be useful!" Draco whined. Dropping her head into her hands, she said:

"That's true, but we aren't, and we can't leave you alone. Now eat." Pouting, he did as he was told.

"Is it much longer?" Draco asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Yes, it is!" Hermione snapped, losing her patience. Cowering, the child looked to Harry, who sighed.

"Hermione is just moody because she doesn't like Divination," he told Draco. "I don't either, but we have to go to the lessons anyway. Do you want me to levitate you?"

"Yes, please," he politely replied. Despite herself, Hermione smiled.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry said, and Draco floated along, squealing happily.

"Welcome, welcome," Professor Trelawney stage-whispered. "What a surprise to have you here – not that I hadn't seen it, of course," she added, as if to correct her mistake. She really was a fraud, Hermione thought. Grimacing, she led them to a table in the back, seating herself on the edge of one of the much-too-squishy couches. Snickering quietly, Harry sat down next to her, Draco in between them.

"Now, I see there are a few children among us. Watch and learn, everyone, because they are much more open to their Inner Eye. You", she pointed at Draco, "shall have to fight for an anchor among the danger you will face." Groaning none-too-subtly, Hermione audibly said to her trembling charge:

"Don't listen to her, Draco. She's spouting nonsense." Pretending not to have heard –a little hard to do when the whole class was laughing – Professor Trelawney continued.

"Today, we will cover the relation between the crystal ball and the planets..."

"Okay everyone, line up!" Harry called. "Beaters over there, Chasers right here, and Keepers near the edge of the pitch." For some reason, a cluster of students still stood in the middle of it.

"What are you trying out for?" he asked them.

"Seeker!" one of them replied. Groaning, Harry massaged his temples.

"Anyone wanting to be Seeker, please leave the pitch, as we do not need one." he shouted. Noting a few girls with suspiciously yellow badges, he added:

"And only Gryffindors are allowed here, so if you are not a Gryffindor, leave at once!" About ten students ran off. He sighed.

"If there are any first-years here, please be aware that you are only allowed to watch." Another ten students returned to the stands, where he saw Hermione laughing.

"I want all of you on a broom and in the air in ten seconds," he snapped, grabbing his Firebolt and rising to the level of the hoops. Ten seconds later, he shouted:

"Students in the air, remain airborne, please." Descending so that the other could hear him, he said:

"Everyone still on the ground is rejected. Please leave the pitch."

In the end, Harry ended up with Ginny, Katie and Dean as Chasers, Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote as Beaters, and Demelza Robins, who, despite trying out for Chaser, was actually a very good Keeper. He'd thrown Ron of the team: his friend hadn't played all that well last year, and Demelza was much better. Ron would probably throw a fit later, but, Harry thought wryly, he wasn't the kind of Captain who chose his teammates based on his friends. After announcing that they would practice each Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Harry left the pitch.

"Maybe you should play Slytherin with a handicap," Hermione suggested as they were walking back to their dorm.

"Why?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Because their Seeker won't exactly have much time to practice," she snickered.

"Yeah, well, I won't either, remember?"

"What's a handicap?" Draco asked. Sharing a look with Harry, Hermione carefully explained:

"A handicap can be a disadvantage given to one team, to compensate for a major advantage. For example, if Harry plays Quidditch against a much younger person, he has a major advantage. To compensate for that, he could play on a much slower broom, which would make things more or less even again. A handicap can also be certain limits someone might have in comparison to others, like if someone can't walk or is mentally weak, we say he or she has a handicap."

"Like being muggle-born?" he innocently asked.

"No, not at all. Muggleborns don't have limits that purebloods don't have, do they?" Chastised, Draco shook his head, mumbling:

"No, they don't."

"Jar of honey," Harry told the portrait, and it swung open. Hermione lifted Draco through the hole, and collapsed on the couch.

"We've got so much homework!" she complained. Rubbing his eyes, Harry sighed:

"Yeah, and it's only the second day of school."

"Can I colour some more while you do your homework?" Draco asked.

"Sure, here you are," said Hermione, giving him his crayons and colouring book.

Silently, she and Harry started on the pile of parchment they had to fill with essays.

"I'm tired, 'Mione," Draco whined. Looking at the clock, Hermione saw that it was almost eight o'clock in the evening.

"You can go to sleep after you've had a bath, sweetie," she told him, abandoning the remains of the parchment-pile. "Come on, Harry."

"Will you tell me the rest of the tale now?"

"Sure, Draco. Where were we...ah. Beauty was with the Beast in the castle, yes?" He eagerly nodded.

"That evening, the Beast knocked on her door. He told Beauty to meet him for dinner in ten minutes. Beauty did not want to anger her captor and get eaten, and so she put on a clean dress, and braided her hair. When she descended the stairs, the Beast was already waiting for her. He greeted her, but apart from that they were silent on the walk to the dining hall.

During dinner he told her she could explore the castle as much as she wished, but she was never to go into the East Wing. Beauty agreed and asked the Beast why he was not eating. The Beast did not answer, and when Beauty looked up again, he was gone.

While she was walking back to her room, Beauty heard the most terrible sounds. There was growling and howling. Beauty thought that maybe the Beast was hurting another person. Wanting to rescue that person, she followed the sounds, and soon realised they were coming from the East Wing.

Beauty pushed open the door and saw nothing for a moment. Then she screamed, for the Beast came hurling at her on all four, slavering and feral. Terrified, she ran all the way to the gates of the castle. Grabbing her horse, she spurred it into a gallop, and rode into the forest. She had barely entered, however, when a huge pack of white wolves attacked her. She tried to fight them off, but she was not strong enough. A wolf snatched the branch she had been using to defend herself, and Beauty knew she would die there.

Then the Beast came barrelling through the woods. Beauty screamed, for she was even more terrified of the Beast than of the wolves. The Beast did not attack her, though. He attacked the wolves, and he won. When all the wolves had run off, Beauty cautiously approached the Beast. He had gotten hurt in the fight, and she knew he would die out here if she did not help him. A small voice in the back of her mind said that she should run, should go back to the village, but Beauty knew that would be wrong. He had saved her life; now she would save his.

Beauty used her horse to bring the Beast, who had passed out, back to the castle. Once inside she laid him on a bed and started caring for his wounds. He had quite a few nasty cuts, and a deep gash in his shoulder that got infected. Three days and nights she remained with him through his fever.

When Beauty noticed that the Beast was starting to wake up, she warily took a few steps back. Although she was less scared of him now, he was still very dangerous, and she did not know if he would be angry."

Unsure of how tired Draco was, Hermione paused.

"Does it end there?" he asked.

"It doesn't. Are you tired, or do you want to hear more?" As she probably should have expected, the child bounced up and down in his bed.

"More!" he said.

"Okay, but you have to be calm, Draco. It's a bedtime story after all," she admonished. He eagerly nodded.

"When the Beast woke up, he thanked Beauty for helping him. He seemed less scary now, and Beauty sat back down next to him. She asked him what the growling was. The Beast turned his head away and softly answered that he could not tell her, but that no one else was in the castle. Beauty was relieved that he was not hurting anyone, and promised not to enter the East Wing again, not even if she heard something.

The Beast was out of bed the next day. He showed Beauty the library. Beauty had always loved books, and she was very happy. She asked the Beast if he would read with her. Surprised, he agreed.

From then on, Beauty and the Beast would spend each afternoon in the library together. They played games, read books, sought out the most terrible poetry and burned it in the fireplace. They enjoyed each other's company, and Beauty was no longer scared of Beast.

One day, Beauty told Beast she wished she could see her family again. She was very good friends with Beast, but Beauty had been in the castle for more than two months, and she really missed her father. Beast showed her a magic mirror. It showed her father, ill and dying. Beauty begged Beast to go home until her father died. She promised she'd return afterwards, and Beast told her she could go. He gave her a ring, and said that if she put it under her pillow before she went to sleep, she would wake up in her room in the castle. Beauty thanked him, and before she knew it, the ring had transported her to her father's room.

Beauty cared for her father, and ignored her petty, jealous siblings. A week later, her father died. Beauty stayed for the funeral, but then she packed up all her belongings and laid them on her bed. Putting the ring under her pillow, Beauty fell asleep. When she woke up, Beauty was still in her own room. Disappointed, she felt under her pillow, but did not feel the ring. Beauty knew one of her siblings must have stolen it, and so she saddled their horse and rode to the castle. She did not want to lose time. Beauty felt like something horrible would happen if she didn't get to Beast right now.

Arriving at the castle, she ran to the East Wing. She had never entered there, but she was panicking. She could not find Beast anywhere. The only places she had not yet checked were his rooms and the library. He was not in his rooms, so Beauty ran to the library.

There, she found Beast lying on the floor. She kneeled next to him and felt for a pulse. There was one, but it was very weak. She called out to Beast, asking if he could hear her. He lifted his head and said her name. Beauty answered that her sisters had stolen her ring, but that she was there. The pulse under her fingers was slowing and she cried out that he could not go, because she loved him. A yellow light surrounded Beast, and he transformed into a handsome young man. Beauty suspiciously wiped at her tears. The young man told her his name was Eduard. He told her the story of how he had been cursed to be a beast because he had been rude to a fairy, and how only learning to love would set him free.

Beauty looked at him, heartbroken that she had fallen in love with a lie. She walked away and mounted her horse, riding to a town far, far away.

There, Beauty went on to write stories. She became a beloved figure in the town where she lived, but never married.

For in her heart, she would always love her Beast."

"It doesn't have a happy ending," Draco remarked. Hermione smiled.

"Yes, it does. Beauty is an independent, intelligent lady. Did you expect her to settle into her fairy-tale ending like Cinderella?" Hermione asked. Draco grumbled a bit, but soon fell asleep.

"That isn't how the story goes," Harry remarked once she had walked out of the room.

"There are many versions of that particular one," Hermione answered with a wink.

 _ **A/N**_

 ** _So, this is the last full chapter with little!Draco. I do apologize for the large fairytale section, but I just thought it fit in so well with the story._**

 ** _The Gryffindor tryouts are more or less taken from canon, but rewritten, obviously._**

 ** _Hope you enjoyed it!_**

 ** _As always, I love reviews, but will update anyway._**

 ** _So..._**

 ** _Until next time!_**


	5. Chapter 5

All in all, the two weeks passed relatively quickly. Ron wouldn't speak to Harry and Hermione anymore, and she sometimes still worried about what Dumbledore had told them, but things were going smoothly. Harry worked his team hard, and Draco loved watching the practice sessions. By the last Friday, though, a sense of melancholy overcame Hermione. This evening, Draco would change back into his sixteen-year-old self, and she wasn't looking forward to it. These thoughts plagued her all the way through lunch.

"Hermione, why aren't you taking any notes?" Harry hissed at her during Muggle Studies, and Hermione realised she must have drifted off again. Draco was working placidly in a colouring book; he still loved those.

"Take you own notes!" she whispered back. Muggle Studies normally wasn't in her timetable, but Dumbledore had decided each member of a group should have the same timetable, with enough variation. And so she was now stuck in both Muggle Studies and Divination. Apparently, Malfoy followed Divination, but she was not sure how Muggle Studies had appeared; no one in their group took it.

"Class dismissed!" she heard the professor say, and they hurried along to Defence Against The Dark Arts.

"Turn to page 366, please," Lupin told the class. A collective gasp went around the room when the other students saw what it was about. Hermione wondered how their professor felt about the subject. They had covered it in third year, but werewolves came back in sixth year. Hermione knew this because she had the lesson plan for DADA memorised. It allowed her to study on her own if Dumbledore couldn't find a proper teacher.

"Now, I believe we covered ways to recognize and kill a werewolf in third year. This year, you will be learning about moral issues and politics regarding werewolves." A collective groan went through the class. Lupin laughed.

"I know you covered some of it with Professor Binns, but, if I recall correctly, he could make a Quidditch match sound boring, unless that has somehow changed?" The class laughed.

"Well then, I have a different kind of lesson for you. Today, you will be engaging in a debate. Miss Granger, would you mind leading it?"

"Not at all," Hermione replied, "but isn't that your job?"

"It is. After I leave the room, I want you to split up. Those who consider themselves non-judgemental and tolerant about werewolves should go to the left side of the classroom; the other students, the right side." As everyone started getting out of their seats, Lupin quickly added:

"Not now, I'm going to leave the room first! After you have split up, Miss Granger will lead a debate about why you are on which side. I have cast noise-warning charms on this classroom, so if you make too much of a racket, I'm coming in and all of you will have detention." With that, he left the room.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Hermione asked. The class quickly scrambled to their chosen side. It was more or less an even division, with slightly more people on the tolerant side. Hermione knew why Lupin had chosen to leave the room.

When it became obvious no one was going to start talking, Hermione sighed.

"We're supposed to be having a debate, here. First question: who would change sides if Professor Lupin was in the room?" Pretty much all of the students on the non-tolerant side raised their hands.

"Why are you over there in the first place, then?" Dean asked.

"Because they're dangerous!" said Goyle, rather loudly.

"We're talking about non-feral werewolves here," Lavender pointed out.

"What difference does that make?" Crabbe asked stupidly.

"Those lock themselves up during the full moon, or take the Wolfsbane Potion," Parvati explained.

"They're still dirt," Theodore Nott scoffed.

"Why?" Hermione asked, trying to remain calm.

"Because they're werewolves!" Goyle said, as if that explained everything.

"Sorry to break it to you, but they're human most of the time. As long as they don't hurt anyone during full moons, I really don't see the problem," Ron said.

"But how can we be sure no one gets hurt during the full moon?" Seamus wanted to know. He'd chosen the non-tolerant side, but seemed willing enough to be convinced.

"Because non-feral werewolves go to great lengths to prevent that, and those who don't are labelled feral," said Harry.

"And what happens to feral werewolves?" Neville asked.

"Those are considered dangerous to all, and usually executed," Hermione stated. "Fenrir Greyback, for example."

"They haven't killed him, have they?" Blaise Zabini pointed out.

"Only because they can't catch him," Harry snapped.

"Shouldn't all werewolves be preventively killed?" Seamus said.

"That's like saying all wizards and witches should be killed because a wand can murder," Hermione said. "You can't punish someone for a crime they haven't committed."

"Snape punishes me often enough for not doing my homework," someone grumbled.

"Consensus?" Hermione prompted.

"As long as full moons are carefully monitored and secured, werewolves should be treated as an equal part of society. Feral werewolves should be given the same treatment as normal murderers," Lavender suggested.

"Who votes against?" A few hands went up from the non-tolerant side, but the majority remained silent. Hermione used her wand to write their conclusion on the board, and everyone sat down again.

"Well," said Lupin upon entering the classroom, "what did you talk about, Miss Granger?"

"We defined the difference between feral and non-feral werewolves, examined security during full moons, and considered what should happen to feral werewolves. We also established that, as you cannot punish someone for a crime not yet committed, preventively killing all werewolves is not an option. On top of that, we got to see how some people have prejudices based on faulty or lacking information, or sometimes based on nothing but prejudice. Our conclusion is on the blackboard," Hermione summarised.

"I'm pleasantly surprised with the thoroughness of your debate, so ten points to both Slytherin and Gryffindor. Do you think the Ministry agrees with you?"

"Not at all, Sir," Lavender answered. "Umbridge demonstrated that last year."

"Right you are. I want your personal opinion on today's discussion by next lesson, twenty centimetres. Class dismissed."

"Even more homework!" Hermione groaned.

"Yeah. D'you think Ron would stop pretending I don't exist if I paint his toenails while he's asleep?" Harry wondered.

"He would, but you'd be in even more trouble. Besides, you don't sleep in the same dorm anymore," she pointed out.

"Jar of Honey," Harry told the portrait.

"When do you think he'll change back?" Hermione quietly asked her friend.

"I don't know. Keep your wand at the ready, though." At Hermione's look he added: "Just in case! I swear, 'Mione, you're like a mother hen!"

"I guess I've just become much too attached, haven't I?" she sighed, ignoring that wretched nickname.

"You have. I wouldn't try to hug Malfoy, though. He might bite."

"Don't you think he might have changed a little?"

"Don't get your hopes up, but maybe. I hope so, really," Harry reluctantly admitted.

"You like him too, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." Harry sighed. "I won't when he's back to normal, though."

"Why are you sad?" Draco asked. Sighing, Hermione picked him up.

"Nothing important, sweetie," she said, hugging the child.

"Uh, Hermione..." Harry warned.

"Right," she said, setting Draco down. "Do you want-"

Before her eyes, the child lengthened, turning back into the boy all of Gryffindor considered their arch-enemy. A lot of them had taken a liking to little Draco, who was rapidly turning back into Malfoy.

"FUCK!" Malfoy screamed, doubling over and clutching his head.

"Draco?" Hermione hesitantly asked. Harry laid a hand on her arm, shaking his head.

"What did you do to me?" the pale-haired boy demanded, eyes bright with fury.

"I don't know what you mean," Hermione softly said, holding onto Harry's shoulder.

"No, don't you? Having me fraternise with mudbloods and blood traitors, caring for me! Scolding me for being-" Malfoy turned around and stormed into his room. Looking in her pocket, Hermione saw she still had his wand. Collapsing to the ground, she started sobbing.

"Oh, 'Mione," Harry sighed, putting an arm around her.

Dejectedly the two teenagers started homework. Each five minutes or so Hermione's gaze would stray toward Draco's door, but nothing happened.

"Hermione," Harry gently called, "we really should head to dinner." Throwing a longing look at the permanently closed door, Hermione sighed and stood up.

"How about we go to the kitchens afterward? Otherwise Draco won't have any dinner," she suggested.

"He's Malfoy now, but okay," Harry reluctantly agreed.

"How can we help Master Harry and Mistress Hermione?" Dobby excitedly asked.

"A small meal for one, please," Hermione requested.

Minutes later one appeared, although it was most definitely not small.

"Thank you, Dobby!" Harry hurriedly said, as his friend was probably halfway to the dorm by now.

"Draco?" Hermione softly said, knocking on his door. No answer. She tried again.

"Draco Malfoy, stop being such a prick and open that door!" Still nothing.

"Oh, fuck it!" she grumbled. "Alohomora!" That didn't work in the dorms, apparently.

"If you do not open the door, so help me, I'll blast it apart and you will be forced to change in full vision!" Hermione snapped.

That got him moving, and she heard a lock being turned. Seconds later, Malfoy had pulled her inside and locked the door again. Setting the tray with food down on the nightstand, Hermione looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. With a start, she realised he'd been crying. Forcing herself not to show any reaction, Hermione sat down on the bed and looked the Slytherin in the eye. Averting his gaze, he sat down next to her.

"Why are you so angry with us?" she asked, voice breaking.

"You changed something, and I don't like it," he accused her.

"We only looked after you, Draco," Hermione sighed.

"You cared," he whispered.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because I'm your fucking enemy, Granger!" he spat.

"I know," said Hermione sadly.

"Then why did you?" he demanded.

"You really don't know?" she asked, studying him.

"Does it look like I do?" Malfoy snapped. A traitorous tear escaped Hermione's eye, sliding down her cheek.

"...Why are you crying?" the boy next to her asked, baffled.

"Don't mind me," Hermione half-sobbed, scrubbing at her eyes, "I've been crying all evening."

"But why?" the origin of her sadness asked, too stunned to remain angry.

"A child I cared about disappeared," she muttered.

"Why did you have to get so attached to me?" he sighed. At that, Hermione started sobbing.

"I got attached to the non-brainwashed version of you, Draco," she gently corrected him.

"Brainwashed?" he said, offended.

"Yes, brainwashed! By the father who abused you, no less!" she cried out. Seeing Draco's eyes flare, Hermione knew she'd gone too far. Throwing his wand on the bed, she got up at the same time he shouted:

"GET OUT! You don't know the first thing, you filthy mudblood!" She ran for the door, slamming it behind her. Hermione made a beeline for her bed, falling down on it and sobbing until her lungs felt like they would explode.

What she did not know was that, behind the door she'd closed, someone was doing exactly the same.

"Do I really have to?" Hermione dejectedly complained.

"Yes, you do! 'Mione, you've done nothing but mope since Malfoy", the name was spoken with bitter resentment, "kicked you out."

Grumbling, she followed Harry to the carriages which would bring them to Hogsmeade. Ron shot the both of them a venomous glare before pointedly climbing aboard a nearly-full carriage.

"Hey, Harry!" Ginny called out. She was seated with Luna, which conveniently kept theirs empty.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry said as he and Hermione joined them.

"Where's Draco? You didn't leave him alone, did you?" the redhead asked. Hermione winced.

"He turned back into himself yesterday evening," Harry explained.

"Who do you think will be a child next?"

"I don't know. I hope it's me, Malfoy is a real pain in the ass to deal with." Hermione bit her tongue to keep from defending the Slytherin.

"Oh, look, we're there," Luna serenely said, oblivious to the tension in the air.

"Yeah, we are," Hermione weakly said. The other girl gave her a strange look, but she ignored it.

"Zonko's first!" Harry announced.

"No," Ginny and Hermione groaned together.

"Where do you want to go, then?" he asked Ginny.

"The Three Broomsticks. I want to hear all about this new project," she cheerfully replied. Hermione resigned herself to walking through Hogsmeade alone, knowing Harry couldn't refuse anything Ginny asked.

"You go ahead, I'll join you later," she assured them.

"Okay," Ginny easily agreed. Harry shot her a look, but before he could say anything Ginny had pulled him away.

Dejectedly Hermione started walking. She didn't really know where she wanted to go, but she did not want to be around others right now.

Before she fully realised where she was going, Hermione saw the Shrieking Shack. Conjuring a blanket, she sat against the fence. From up the hill she had a spectacular view of Hogsmeade, but the only thing the young witch saw was a pale, pointed face screaming at her. Malfoy had been like a wounded animal, lashing out to protect itself. Hermione hated herself for caring, but she did, and now it was too late.

Someone screamed, but she didn't really notice. Then her brain caught up with her, and she ran toward the noise.

About halfway down the hill, she could see Ron suspended in the air, jerking and screaming. He held something in his hand that seemed to be causing it. Before she could think about it, Hermione screamed:

"Accio thing in Ron's hand!" When the thing came closer, she could see it was a necklace. Hermione wasn't stupid enough to touch it, though. She quickly banished the thing to the ground.

"Don't touch that!" she yelled to the people standing around them. Luckily, no one was feeling particularly brave today.

"How could you?" Hermione moaned. "Ron! Ron, can you hear me?" He did not respond.

"Okay...Expecto Patronum!" A silver otter appeared. "Go get Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey," she ordered, and it disappeared in a cloud of mist.

"Is he okay?" Lavender Brown anxiously asked.

"What does it look like? No one touches him until we're sure it isn't contagious!" she shouted, as a few people had started to approach Ron.

"Merlin's beard, whatever is going on here?" Dumbledore – who had just apparated on-scene – asked.

"Professor!" Hermione cried out. "I think he touched that thing there, and-"

"Poppy, please escort Mr. Weasley to St. Mungo's," the headmaster ordered with a quiet urgency. Nodding, Madam Pomfrey disappeared with Ron.

"Has anyone seen what happened?"

"I have, Sir," Dean Thomas said.

"Mr. Thomas, Miss Granger, please follow me to my office."

"What happened?" asked Dumbledore once they were seated in his office.

"Ron went to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks," a very pale Dean explained. "When he came back, he told me someone had given him something, and that he would show it to me someplace else. He brought me halfway up the hill to the Shrieking Shack, and grabbed a brown package. When he started to unwrap it, that happened."

"I see. Miss Granger?" the headmaster inquired.

"I saw Ron hovering in the air, screaming and jerking. I summoned and then banished the necklace so that I would not have to touch it. Then I sent a Patronus to come get you," Hermione said.

"Excellent crisis management, Miss Granger. Twenty points to Gryffindor. Mr. Thomas, you can go back to your dorm."

"Thank you, Sir," Dean said before leaving the room.

"Now, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, peering over his desk at her, "I expect you realise who did this?" Paling, Hermione nodded.

"From now on, I want you or Mr. Potter to be with Mr. Malfoy at all times. He is not to be left alone in any situation. Should he try anything, you have my permission to either Stupefy him, or to use the Full Body-Bind curse.

"What about the potions we took?" Hermione timidly asked.

"Ah, yes. I am afraid those are not reversible, so I suggest you ask Miss Weasley for help with whoever is the child," Dumbledore replied.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said.

"'Mione, what happened?" Harry worriedly asked. He and Ginny had just entered through the portrait hole. Hermione sighed, and retold the whole story. By the end, both of them were visibly angry.

"We're supposed to LIVE with him after this?!" Harry shouted.

"It's to keep an eye on him, you know that," Hermione tiredly sighed.

"I'll help, of course," Ginny said, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"What if he dies hating me?" Harry asked, voice breaking. Ginny rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"Jar of honey," they heard someone say. The portrait swung open, and in came Malfoy. Harry charged forward, punching the other boy in the face.

"OUCH!" Malfoy screamed. "What was that for?!" Despite Hermione shaking her head at him, Harry shouted back:

"For nearly killing my friend!" If possible, Malfoy looked even paler.

"You know." It wasn't a question.

"We do," Hermione whispered in a trembling voice. "How could you?"

Their answer was the sound of a door being slammed shut.

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **So, this is chapter five! It's rather long, but whatever. So, I couldn't resist inserting the debate there. As you might know, I love Wolfstar, and well. Sorry!**_

 ** _Anyway, this was a really fun chapter to write. It practically wrote itself, and I had some trouble ending it._**

 ** _Right now I'm working on chapter nine, but it's giving me loads of trouble. I just can't seem to get it written, so updates could slow down a bit, just so that I don't run out of prewritten chapters. Still, you'll get an update a week!_**

 ** _Comments are greatly appreciated, as they help me find motivation and inspiration - which I really need with that horrible chapter._**

 ** _I am also looking for a beta, see my profile for more information._**

 ** _Bye!_**


	6. Chapter 6

Malfoy did not leave his room all day.

"Does he never go to the bathroom?!" Hermione cried out in frustration. After Ginny left, she and Harry had been keeping watch.

"Should've said that earlier," Harry muttered, nudging her. Looking up, she saw the door being opened.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione shouted. Malfoy came tumbling through the doorway, landing on his face. Levitating the Slytherin onto the couch, she took his wand and put it in her pocket.

"Professor Dumbledore want me or Harry to be with you all the time," Hermione told him.

"I'm sure you know why," Harry icily added.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Hermione whispered, releasing him.

"I hate you," Malfoy spat, not moving a muscle.

"I know," Hermione simply said, starting on her homework.

"Where are we supposed to be sitting?" Harry asked Hermione just before they entered the Great Hall.

"The fifth table, I think, or otherwise the Gryffindor table," she answered.

"I am not sitting with a bunch of Gryffindors!" said Malfoy. Neither Gryffindor bothered replying.

Walking through the Great Hall with their wands at the ready, Harry and Hermione attracted a lot of curious stares. When Malfoy tried to sit at the other end of the table with Zabini and Nott, they had to bodily push him between them, which didn't help matters much.

"Forget it, Potter! No way in hell am I changing with you!"

Hermione sighed.

"We are under strict orders not to leave you alone," Harry explained for what seemed like the thousandth time. "If you've got a better idea...?"

"Have Granger accompany me," Malfoy suggested with a devious smirk. Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded.

"Sure, give me a minute." Both boys seemed slightly shocked. Smirking, she quickly went to her room and pulled her pyjamas on. They were pretty basic; long black cotton trousers with a pink tank top.

Upon seeing her, Harry had to fight laughter, while Malfoy looked extremely put out.

Once in the relative privacy of his room, he gave her his back and started to disrobe. Hermione noticed the food she'd brought him yesterday was all gone.

She cared about him much more than what would've been healthy. Problem was, she didn't know what to do about it.

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?"

"I am," she replied.

"No, you're not," he argued, the devilish tone making her wary.

"Put your pyjamas on, Draco," she sighed.

"I don't have any," he easily answered. Hermione knew this to be true, as she'd transfigured or conjured them for him when he'd been a child.

"So, can I open the door, then?" she asked, refusing to be flustered.

"No!" he cried out, the panic in his voice sounding genuine.

"Why not?" Apparently mistaking her concern for mocking, Draco whirled around.

"It's none of your business!"

She'd had enough. Hermione had tried to be understanding and kind, but her patience was wearing thin.

"Listen, you giant prick! I know what they're asking you to do. I won't pretend I know why you're going along with it. But I care about you, Draco, and you keep shoving it back in my face." She laughed harshly. "I'm a fool, I guess, for believing you're still human inside. For hoping you'll come to your senses."

Stumbling backwards until his knees hit the bed, Draco sank down onto it.

"I'm scared." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he knew it.

"I'm scared because I don't remember what it's like. I don't know how, 'Mione." The admission was ripped from his throat.

"I'm a coward. I don't dare say no to them. But I don't want to be a murderer," he confessed, voice dropping to a whisper.

Grey-blue eyes pierced Hermione's, begging her to understand.

"Do you want me to leave?" she softly asked.

"What?"

"Do you?" she insisted.

"No," he curtly said.

Hermione sat next to him on the bed, laying her hand on his.

"What's happening to me?" he whispered.

"I don't know. I can't read your mind."

Draco said something she couldn't hear.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"...can you help me?"

Looking into his eyes, she sighed.

"I can try. But you have to choose a side, Draco. There are others who'd help you as well."

"I know. I'm not ready," he admitted.

Hermione started to get up when Draco grasped her wrist.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, looking down.

"You'll have to come with me," she carefully said. "We still have to stay with you, and there's only one bed in this room."

Getting up, Draco silently followed her. Idly, Hermione wondered when she'd stopped thinking of him as Malfoy.

"Why isn't he wearing any pyjamas?" Harry asked when Hermione and Malfoy passed through the living room, the latter dressed in nothing but a pair of white boxers.

"There weren't any in his trunk," his best friend answered, seeming completely comfortable.

"Then why didn't you conjure a pair?" snapped Harry.

"Oh, I didn't think of that," Hermione replied, and with a flick of her wrist Malfoy looked a lot more decent.

"I can't sleep that way!" the Slytherin complained.

"Take them off once you're in bed, then," Hermione suggested. Harry narrowed his eyes. She looked very at ease around the would-be murderer of their friend.

What the bloody hell had happened between them?

"No...stop..."

Hermione woke to moaning. She looked around the bedroom groggily.

In the bed next to her, Draco trashed around in his bed, a fine sheen of sweat layering his skin. Hesitantly she got up, suspecting he didn't want her to see this.

"Draco, wake up. You're safe, wake up," she pleaded, gently shaking his shoulders.

"'Mione?"

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered, backing away.

"M'sorry," he groaned. Hermione froze.

"What for?" she cautiously asked.

"Necklace," he mumbled, already falling asleep. Hermione stood stock still for several more minutes. Eventually she went back to bed, resolving to ask him about it in the morning.

SUNDAY

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Harry asked Hermione. She rolled her eyes.

"What do you suggest? I want to see Ron, and you do too."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not there!" complained Draco.

"Ah, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. I was expecting you," Madam Pomfrey greeted them, completely ignoring their tag-along. "Mr. Weasley was transferred here from St. Mungo's this morning. He's been asking for you."

"Thank you," Hermione acknowledged. Keeping an eye on Draco, she approached the bed. Ron was sitting up against a pile of pillows, looking very pale.

"Hermione," he croaked.

"Hi, Ron," she softly said.

"What's he doing here?" the ginger angrily asked. Hermione wasn't sure which of the boys he was referring to.

"I wanted to see you, mate," said Harry.

"Not you, him!"

"We have to stick together," Hermione quickly lied. "The project, remember?" Harry discreetly shot her a look, and she knew there'd be hell to pay for lying to Ron. For now, though, her best friend seemed to accept her judgement.

"We don't," Draco stated, not having gotten the message. Hermione massaged her temples, trying to act normal.

"You were a child when they told us, you must not have been paying attention," she told him in what she hoped was a suitably exasperated tone of voice. Draco shrugged, looking casual.

"Harry?" Ron croaked.

"Yes?"

Ron smiled a little.

"I'm sorry for being angry you kicked me off the team. You were right, it's not because we're mates that you should..."

"I know," Harry said, relieved. "It doesn't matter now." Ron grinned at him.

Hermione envied their easy friendship. Somehow, she always felt awkward, like she was doing something wrong. They didn't seem to be plagued by doubts after each conversation, so Hermione guessed she was just weird.

"Oh, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, coming out of her office, "the headmaster asked me to give this to you."

"Okay, thanks," he answered, slightly bewildered. Opening the parchment, Harry quickly scanned it.

"He wants me to come to his office in", he looked at his watch, "ten minutes. It doesn't say why..." he looked at Hermione. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" she asked, seeming offended.

"Never mind. I'm off, then. I'll see you at lunch," Harry added as he departed.

After Harry had left, Hermione seated herself on the edge of Weasley's bed. Draco hovered near the privacy curtains, unsure of what to do with himself. They exchanged a few words which he couldn't hear, and then Weasley leaned in.

In the moments before their lips touched, Draco thought he saw Hermione mouth 'no'. Infuriated, he sprinted forward, but it was too late. The red-haired piece of shit had his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.

It lasted but a second, but a second was all it took. Draco balled his fists, watching as his girl slapped that bastard so hard he screamed.

"Don't you EVER do that again, Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, distressed.

By that time, Draco had reached the bed, wrapping his arms around Hermione and setting her back on her feet. Clearly shaken, she leaned into him and closed her eyes.

"Get me out of here, please," she whispered before he had much of a chance to ponder his own actions.

Hermione was getting a headache.

Since she and Draco had returned to their dorms they'd done nothing but sit silently on the couch, lost in thought. For her part, Hermione wondered about many things. She didn't know why Ron had kissed her, nor did she know why Harry had been asked to go to Dumbledore's office. But most of all, she marvelled at how Draco had acted. He'd seemed upset with Ron's behaviour – frankly, so was she, but then he'd tried to kiss her, not him – and had reacted, she suspected, before he thought. It wasn't a common occurrence from the usually reserved Slytherin, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder.

"Do you hate me?" she blurted. Draco looked at her strangely.

"I should," he sighed. Knowing that was probably as much of an answer as she was going to get, Hermione let it drop.

"Did you want him to kiss you?"

"Would I have slapped him if I did?" she retorted, but it was hollow.

Sighing, Hermione started searching for her homework. Where had she left the bloody bag again...?

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked, looking up from the essay she was writing. Her best friend had just entered through the portrait hole, looking drained.

Harry just shook his head and kept walking. Getting up, Hermione grabbed his wrist, forcing him to face her.

"I'm not going to tell you!" he exploded. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore!"

Hurt, Hermione reared back.

"Go, then," she quietly said.

Harry stomped to the child's room without so much as a glance back.

Hermione sank to the ground. She'd somehow managed to alienate both of her friends in one day, and the reason for it was gazing at her with that unreadable gaze of his.

"Is this...normal?" Draco asked.

"It's the first time," she harshly answered. "We've had fights before, but not like this. Never two against one."

"I see."

"Do you?" Hermione muttered. Either Draco didn't hear her, or he chose to ignore it.

It was ironic, Hermione mused. Just a day ago it had been Draco who'd locked himself in that room, and now Harry wouldn't come out. He'd attended lunch nor dinner, and she was worried.

Draco had been remarkably quiet, but she hadn't the energy to try and find out why. All she wanted to do was forget this disastrous day.

"'Mione, we should go to bed," her pale-haired companion said.

"Sure," sighed Hermione, stuffing the last of her essays into her bag. "How are we going to change, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't leave you alone, remember?"

"Right," he bitterly said.

"You can look now," Hermione chuckled. Draco was lying on his stomach with a blanket over his head. He was only wearing boxers, and it surprised her how comfortable she was around him, tendency to repel pyjamas or not.

Grumpily, he pulled the blanket away, rolling over. Hermione crawled into bed.

"G'night, Draco," she whispered.

"Goodnight," he sighed.

 _ **A/N**_

 ** _So, lots of character development and action here!_**

 ** _I don't really have much to say, except that, if you like this story, don't be shy to leave a review! I read all of them, and if there are any questions I'll answer them by PM, as doesn't allow me to do that in an author's note._**

 ** _Bye!_**


	7. Chapter 7

"Potter! Open that door right now!"

Harry groaned, searching for his glasses. When the world had stopped being a giant blur, he looked at the clock.

"It's six o'clock!"

"I KNOW!"

Curious, Harry stumbled toward the door. As soon as he opened it, a little brown-haired girl came barrelling inside.

"It's so pretty here! Is this my room?" Baffled, Harry watched Malfoy smile and nod.

"Yes, as soon as you get him out."

"Did you steal my room?" the girl pouted. Sensing danger, Harry quickly said:

"Of course not, I didn't know it was yours. I'll get out now." With that, he got out of the way.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" he asked as soon as he saw the other room. Malfoy grimaced.

"Hermione woke up before me and got bored."

"You're kidding, right?" Malfoy shook his head.

Looking around, Harry noticed none of the objects strewn across the floor were in any way damaged. They were just laying around.

"Well, at least she didn't break anything," he sighed, reaching into his pocket for his wand. "Why do I have three wands?" he asked, baffled.

"Mine, since I'm not allowed to have it, and Hermione's," Malfoy explained. Grabbing his own wand, Harry waved it, and the room returned to its original state.

"Should we take her for breakfast?" he wondered.

"Probably," Malfoy agreed, "but we need to get her dressed first."

"Shit."

As it turned out, 'shit' was quite the understatement.

"I WANT MY JEANS!"

"What are jeans?"

"A kind of Muggle trousers. Hermione, as you can see, we don't have your jeans."

"EVERYONE HAS JEANS!"

Sighing, Harry ran his hand through his hair. Hermione was turning out to be quite the spitfire, and he honestly had no idea how to handle her.

"Do you remember where we are?" Malfoy gently asked, crouching down and taking the child's hands.

"A magic castle!"

"Yes. And no one wears jeans here. We wear wizarding robes." Stunned, Harry watched as Hermione squealed.

"Can I wear them too? Please, please, please?"

"Of course you can. Why don't you go look for a nice pair in your trunk?" Laughing happily, the girl ran off.

"I had no idea you had such a touch with children," Harry quietly said. Malfoy smirked.

"Don't forget I managed Crabbe and Goyle for five years."

Harry burst out laughing.

"How do I put these on?" Hermione whined. Somehow, she'd found a rainbow-coloured robe.

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked.

"I coloured it!" Looking closely, Harry saw that Hermione was holding her own wand.

"I think you'd better give that back," Malfoy gently coaxed.

"NO!" she cried, pointing her wand at the Slytherin in a ridiculous flourish.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shouted. Hermione fell backwards, but it was too late. Malfoy had been replaced by a white ferret.

Chuckling, Harry grabbed the animal, who squeaked.

"Relax, Malfoy. I'm just bringing you to McGonagall. I have no idea how to reverse this," he said. "As for you," Harry added, glaring at Hermione and confiscating the wand, "you are going to be punished." The child blinked a few times. Harry sighed, stuffing Malfoy in his pocket.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

After he had pulled a simple black robe over Hermione – the rainbow ones still had to get de-charmed –the trio went to their professor's office.

"Oh dear, what happened to the lot of you?" McGonagall asked. Moments before, two students and a ferret had entered her office. Potter was in his pyjamas, and the child, whom she recognised as Miss Granger, was floating along.

"Hermione got a hold of her wand, charmed some robes rainbow-coloured and turned Malfoy into a ferret. I used a Full Body-Bind curse to prevent her transfiguring me too, but I don't know how to turn Malfoy back," her student explained.

"And why are you in your pyjamas?" she inquired. Potter had the good grace to blush.

"Because Malfoy began biting me when I tried to change into something more decent," he admitted.

"It would seem he does not want to remain a ferret, wouldn't it?" Potter nodded.

"Put him on the table, please. Also, if you could release Miss Granger?"

"I wanted to wear the rainbow robes!" Hermione whined. She had not shut up all through breakfast, and thanks to her little stunt they were late for Potions.

"Shut up, Hermione," Harry growled.

"Be nice," Malfoy scolded. "But 'Mione? If you don't behave in Potions, the teacher will be very angry, and he is not a nice man. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Draco. Pick me up?" The Slytherin chuckled – the expression looking very out of place on his face – and lifted the child up, tickling her all the while. She squirmed, giggling:

"Stop, stop!" Malfoy acquiesced, holding the little girl to him.

"Hermione, what did I tell you about misbehaving in Potions?" Draco asked the child, frustrated.

"I didn't misbehave! I helped!"

He sighed.

"You didn't help, Hermione, you made the potion explode. And now we have even more homework."

"And this morning you turned Malfoy into a ferret," Harry added.

"Why do you keep calling him Malfoy?" the child complained.

"Because we don't like each other," Harry shortly said.

"Anyway, Hermione, do you understand why we are punishing you?"

"I do," she muttered petulantly.

"Good girl. So, no dessert for you today, and you don't get to play with the other children," Draco decided.

"Other children?" Hermione perked up.

"Yes, and you are not allowed to play with them today."

By lunch, two very frustrated teenage boys were trying to come up with a punishment Hermione had not yet received. She had nicked a wand in Charms and flooded the classroom, killed a number of rare plants in Herbology, set the frogs they were supposed to be transfiguring free in Transfiguration, and killed both of them with chatter and horrible singing during their free period.

"And there really is no way to turn her back earlier?" a desperate Harry was asking Professor McGonagall, who they'd run into during their walk to the Great Hall.

"I'm afraid not, Potter. You'll have to discipline her."

Shoulders slumping, Harry thanked her.

"Do they really expect us to get any homework done this way?!" Draco cried out in frustration.

Hermione had gotten about eight punishments that day, ranging from sitting on a chair for twenty minutes to restrictions on lunch and dinner.

Both boys were exhausted from trying to keep her in line all day, and she still wasn't tired, having taken to grabbing their parchment so that they would have to pay attention to her.

Finally, Draco was fed up with it.

"That's ENOUGH!" he exploded, picking the child up and dumping her on the couch. "You are to remain on this couch until it's your bedtime. If you do anything, anything at all I don't agree with, you will go to bed immediately, no matter how early it is."

Hermione refused to meet his eyes, looking at her feet. Draco turned around and went back to his homework, now undisturbed.

"Why was Draco so angry with me?" Hermione asked Harry as he was putting her into bed, Malfoy having passed out on the couch.

"Because you were behaving very badly. Why do you do that?"

"No one notices me otherwise!"

"Hermione, if you behave that way, we get angry with you. It doesn't make us want to spend time with you," he tried to explain.

"What does?"

"We have lots of work, 'Mione, and you're making it worse. In the evening, we have to do our homework, and during the day we have to follow lessons."

"So you don't have time for me?"

"We'll make time for you, sweetheart. You just have to stay quiet during lessons. We can give you a book or a toy, but we can't play with you. And after dinner you either have to be quiet so we can work, or you can help us. Do you think you can do that?"

"I can," she solemnly nodded.

"Thank you," he murmured, bending to kiss her forehead.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

TUESDAY

"Harry? You're going to be late for class!"

"...urngh."

"Come on, Potter. We've let you sleep long enough.

Harry groaned and rolled over.

"What time's it?"

"An hour to Herbology," a girl's voice answered.

"WHAT?!" the-boy-who-slept-too-long screeched.

"ButI'mnotdressedandIhaven'thadbreakfastandwhatgreenhousedowehavetobein?!" Hermione looked at Harry strangely.

"What did you say?" Malfoy snorted.

"WHAT GREENHOUSE?!"

"The furthest one," the Slytherin smirked. Lurching out of bed, Harry attempted to strangle him, but was stopped by a swift kick to the shin.

"NO HURTING DRACO!"

"BUT THE EVIL GIT DID THIS ON PURPOSE!"

"I'M NOT AN EVIL GIT!"

"YES YOU ARE!"

"NO FIGHTING!"

"STOP SCREAMING!"

"YOU'RE SCREAMING TOO!"

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked.

"HE CALLED ME EVIL!"

"HE MADE ME LATE FOR CLASS!"

"THEY'RE FIGHTING!"

"SILENCIO!" the professor yelled. "Why in the world are my noise wards going off at three o'clock in the night?!" She released the spell, glaring at all three of them.

"...three o'clock?" Harry stammered. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows.

"That slimy bastard told me we had to be at the furthest greenhouse in an hour!" he brought out, glaring at Malfoy all the while, who looked innocently back.

"It was her idea!" the culprit protested, pointing at Hermione.

"Did we do something wrong? Draco said it would be okay..." the child stuttered, lower lip trembling.

"Mr. Malfoy, for this absurd behaviour I am taking fifty points from Slytherin. You also have detention. Come see me directly after classes, and bring Miss Granger."

With that, she swept out of the room.

"We don't even have Herbology the first hour on Tuesday. By the way, I can still kill you in the morning," Harry huffed, going back to sleep.

"I can talk to the others today, can't I?"

"Yes, 'Mione, you can," Harry chuckled. Crouching down, Draco added:

"And thank you for not disturbing the class. After my detention we'll do something fun together, okay?"

"Yay!"

Hermione truly had been an angel. They'd given her a bag filled with toys and books, and she'd been perfectly behaved all day.

"So then McGoogly showed up, and-"

"Hermione! You cannot call the teacher McGoogly!" Harry scolded. Hermione had been animatedly telling the other children about Malfoy's prank. She seemed to think it was funny.

Harry was still thinking about his revenge.

Blaise and Terry were listening intently.

"D'you think Neville would let me do something like that?" the former asked Hermione.

"Theo would. He never pays me any mind!" Terry complained. Harry frowned, shooting Nott a look which he ignored.

"Is McGoogly going to be very mad?"

"She will be if you call her that. But I think she's just angry with me," Draco assured the little girl.

"But why did I have to come along?"

"...I don't know?"

The child scoffed, reminding him of her older self.

"That doesn't make sense!"

"I'm not as smart as you, you know," Draco teased.

"But what you just said is dumb, and I know you're not dumb," she argued.

"I give up. As always, you're right."

Laughing, they stepped into Professor McGonagall's classroom.

"That's the spirit, Mr. Malfoy. You are to watch all three children until dinner. I'm locking this room, and when I return it has to be in the same condition as when I leave it. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Terry! Stop it right now!" Draco shouted. If Hermione had been bad that first day, the boy was a thousand times worse. He was jumping on the desks, for Merlin's sake!

"Draaaaco," Hermione whined, tugging on his sleeve, "we're bored."

"I know, darling. Do you want to help me catch Terry?"

"Why do we have to catch Terry?" Blaise asked. He really was cute as a kid, Draco thought, if maybe a bit quiet.

"Because he's- NO, TERRY!" Draco cried out in alarm, hurrying over to where Terry was now hanging on the chandelier.

"This is so much fun!" the infuriating boy squealed, swinging back and forth dangerously. Climbing onto a desk, Draco made a grab for his waist. Surprised, the boy let go of the chandelier, which luckily remained in the air.

Draco, however, did not remain on the desk. Tumbling down, he landed on the floor with a dull thud.

"Can we do that again?" the little Ravenclaw asked. Draco just closed his eyes, groaning. He was going to be full of bruises tomorrow.

"Come on, Harry! We can't leave him like this!" Hermione whined. Harry had dumped Malfoy on the couch, nearly chuckling with glee.

"He deserved what came to him," he told Hermione.

"No, he didn't!" she snapped, stomping her foot.

"Okay, fine!" Harry quickly agreed before she threw a tantrum. "I'll bring him to Madam Pomfrey!"

"I'M FINE!" Malfoy yelled from the couch, sitting up wearily. "Weren't we going to do some homework together?" Hopping onto a chair, Hermione eagerly leaned forward.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Did you pay attention during Astronomy?"

"Of course I did!" the girl said, offended.

"Do you remember the moons of Jupiter?" Harry asked. He thought it unfair that they had to learn them again, but those wretched things came up in both fifth and sixth year.

"They are covered with ice," Hermione said, "but you don't have to know them by heart. They're all in this book." She shoved an exceptionally thick volume toward Harry, who groaned.

"Don't you have a thinner one?" Malfoy asked. Hermione rolled her eyes at them in a gesture so reminiscent of the normal her that both boys' breath caught.

"You have to use the register," she slowly explained as if they were the five-year olds. Harry realised then that Hermione was much more intelligent than she usually let on, and felt a pang of remorse for laughing at her all those times.

"Thank you for helping us," Draco told the little girl beaming up at him from under her covers.

"Did I really help you?" she uncertainly asked.

"'Mione, without you that would have taken us twice, if not thrice as long. You are extremely smart; do you know that?"

"I am?"

"You are, but that's not why we love you." He was surprised by the admission. He'd never said that to anyone, but if felt...right.

"Why do you, then?"

"Because you're you," Draco whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"G'night, Draco. I love you too," she mumbled as an afterthought. Draco stiffened in the doorway. Those words... he shook it off and returned to his homework, which would take a lot longer without Hermione there.

 _ **A/N**_

 ** _So, the moment we have been waiting for! Hermione gets turned into a child. I'm sorry to announce she'll only get this chapter as a little girl, mainly because Draco had a lot more to learn and experience than Hermione. So, next chapter she'll be turning back. Sorry!_**

 ** _This chapter was really fun to write. I loved waking them all up in the middle of the night; I laughed so hard at that. Hermione's behavior is somewhat based on my own. I was rather ahead of my age, too. Anyway, I think it makes sense for her._**

 ** _Hope you liked it!_**

 ** _RodeRozen_**


	8. Chapter 8

WEDNESDAY, 27th SEPTEMBER 1995

"So, who can tell me about muggle psychiatrists?" Professor Burbage asked. Despite being five years old, Hermione's hand shot up. The professor indulgently smiled.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Muggles recognize and treat mental illnesses. A psychiatrist is a doctor for your mind," the little girl explained. Her teacher looked baffled, asking:

"I believe you are muggle-born?"

"I am," the child proudly said. Draco supressed a chuckle.

Hermione had been following classes along with them, and she was surprisingly good at it, stunning the teachers with her incredible vocabulary and knowledge. Idly, he wondered if Muggles had a name for children who were so far ahead of their age.

FRIDAY, 29th SEPTEMBER 1995

"She'll be turning back today," Draco said to Harry, who sighed.

"Yeah. Pity she won't be helping us with homework anymore. My grades have never been this high before."

"I'll be sorry to see her go," the Slytherin murmured. His black-haired companion looked at him strangely.

"At least she'll still be our friend." Draco winced, knowing that remark was meant for him. Averting his gaze, he softly said:

"I know."

Harry sighed.

"I TURNED DRACO INTO A FERRET!" someone hysterically shrieked from behind them. Both boys turned around, immediately spotting a very teenage Hermione.

"Yes, you did," Draco smirked. "How are you going to make it up to me?"

"Prat!" she cried.

Hermione could not believe this. She'd done horrible things, all because those two were too stupid to keep her in line. Breathe, she reminded herself. Breathe, and gather information.

"How's Ron?" She didn't miss the glance the boys exchanged.

"The same as when you last saw him," Harry carefully said.

"Well, he's healed of course," Draco added.

"How did you two manage not to kill each other?"

"He tried," her best friend answered.

"WHAT?!"

"Relax, 'Mione. He means that stunt McGoogly was so angry about," Draco lazily drawled.

"McGoogly?!"

"You kept saying that, and we adopted it," Harry shrugged.

"You made me do your homework," she accused.

"You were happy to help," Harry defended. "Besides, you wouldn't keep quiet otherwise."

"You two are irredeemable," Hermione sighed.

"I know," they both chorused. Laughing, she gathered the two boys up in a hug.

"Let go of me!" Draco protested.

"Nope. I'm making it up to you," Hermione evilly said. Sputtering, he allowed himself to be hugged, staying rigid the whole time.

"You need more practice," she concluded. Draco backed away, a look of horror on his face.

"What? No!" he yelled, running to the double room.

Hermione grinned.

"I believe that's my room now," she innocently told Harry, who groaned.

"I'm the child next, aren't I?"

"Correct."

"I'd better get started on my room then," he decided, walking off. Hermione frowned. Her best friend had seemed a bit distant... ah, well, she had more pressing concerns right now. Tucking her wand – which Harry had just handed her back – away, she opened the door to her new room.

Shit, shit, shit.

What the fuck was happening to him?

Knees drawn up to his chest, Draco did not notice the intruder at first. Only when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared did he look up.

Hermione was standing in front of the closed door, looking impossibly small and at the same time larger than life.

Something snapped.

Draco rushed forward, grabbing both of her hands and pinning them against the wood.

Bending forward, he hoarsely whispered:

"What are you doing to me?"

Instead of answering, Hermione leaned in, closing the distance between them. He felt her chapped lips on his own, and instinctively closed his eyes. Unlike what he would have expected, she was not shy at all, viciously attacking him. Wrestling her hands free, she tangled them in his hair and pulled on the strands. Draco moaned, lost.

If this was wrong, why did it feel so right?

The thought splashed over him like a bucket of cold water, and he jerked back.

"No," he panted.

Hermione looked at him uncertainly.

"No," he repeated.

"Okay," she whispered, brushing past him. Baffled, he watched as she lay down on the bed with her back to him. Standing there, he'd almost made up his mind to leave when he heard her soft sobs.

What was he supposed to do? He'd started this whole mess, he could damn well fix it.

"Hermione?"

"No, Draco."

"But," he stammered.

"You made your opinion plenty clear!" she snapped, rolling over. Her tearstreaked face was wild, her hair flying in all directions.

Magic, he realised. She was upset enough to channel her emotions through magic. It was tragic that he'd be the one to cause it.

"I'm sorry," Draco brokenly whispered.

"Well, I'm not!" she shouted, sitting up. "Did you hear me, Draco? I'm not sorry!"

He just gaped, unable to process this new information.

Hermione walked forward, forcing him to step back.

"We can't!" he yelled. "It's wrong!"

"Why?" she demanded. "Because if it's got to do with those ridiculous notions about blood, then I've got news for you. I. Don't. Care!"

"Hermione..." he whispered.

"Kiss me, Draco."

Abandoning all thought, he leaned in and captured her lips with his own. Hermione moaned, wildly clutching at his robes. The kiss was frantic, both of them taking what they needed. It was electric. It was them.

They broke apart, staring at each other. Hermione's brain was working itself into a frenzy trying to analyse what had happened. Was she in love with Draco? She didn't know, and as she told him, she didn't care if it wasn't normal.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

"Harry!" she cried. "How long have you-?"

He did not give her a chance to finish her sentence, turning around and storming out of the room.

"Oh no," Hermione moaned, dropping her head in her hands.

Awkwardly, Draco patted her back.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"It's not your fault," Hermione sighed. "I should've known he would react that way."

She collapsed on her bed, deciding no more homework was going to get done today.

SATURDAY, 30th SEPTEMBER 1995

"And he still won't talk to you?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"No," she dejectedly said.

Dinner had been quite awkward yesterday, with Harry and Ron pointedly not looking at where she was sitting. Alone, since Draco had more or less been forced by Blaise and Theodore to join them at the Slytherin table. The former, he'd told her, had been much friendlier, obviously having learned something from his experience as a child.

Although she was glad to hear it, Hermione had still missed her...what? They had kissed once, and neither had mentioned it since then. It didn't mean anything.

Oh, darn it. She was lying to herself, and she knew it.

"Have you tried talking to Harry and Ron?" Ginny suggested, interrupting her train of thought.

"They've been avoiding me, so I haven't had the chance."

"What happened? I've never seen you three like this, not even in third year, when Ron thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers."

She laughed morosely.

"Yeah, that was pretty bad."

"Really," the other witch tried again, "it can't be that bad."

"IkissedDraco," Hermione mumbled.

"You did WHAT?"

"I kissed Draco."

"You're joking, right?"

She just looked at the redhead.

"Ohmygod, you're not. You actually kissed him."

"I did. And...and I don't really regret it," Hermione confessed.

"Yes, I can see why that would upset certain people."

"And you?"

"I don't understand it, but you should do whatever makes you happy," Ginny shrugged. "Even if it's totally, out-of-this-world crazy."

"Gee, thanks for the compliment," a dry voice said.

Too stunned to say anything, Hermione could only watch in horror as Ginny got up, muttering something to Draco as she exited through the portrait hole.

"Gossiping about me?" Draco smirked.

"I'm sorry!' Hermione cried.

"I don't care, 'Mione. Though if word reaches the Slytherins, they'll probably disown me for kissing a Gryffindor." Unfortunately, it wasn't a joke. Blaise might understand, but the rest of them would not be happy. It didn't concern Draco nearly as much as it should have. No, Hermione had been on the forefront of his thoughts since that fated kiss. He'd spent the whole day in the library hiding from her, convinced she'd want to confront him about what had happened and not quite ready to face reality.

Pity reality had come barging in, demanding to know why it was being ignored.

"Are you going to run off if I ask about last night?"

"Yes."

"How do you feel about last night?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, sensing Hermione was up to something. Trying to walk away, he found his feet were stuck to the floor.

"Smart," he growled.

"Isn't it?" she smugly said. "No moving for you until you tell me."

"I am so getting you back for this," Draco threatened. Hermione nodded noncommittally, making herself comfortable on the couch with a book.

10:30 AM

"I won't budge, you know," Draco petulantly muttered. Hermione didn't respond, completely immersed in her book.

"What the bloody hell are you reading anyway?"

"Hogwarts, a History," she absently replied.

"Again? Are you trying to memorise it or something?"

Hermione didn't bother answering.

12:45 PM

"Are you sure I can't have lunch?"

"Only if you tell me."

"What was the question again?"

"How do you feel about last night?"

"..."

14:02PM

"Fine! I give up!" yelled Draco. Hermione – who was on her second book – looked up.

"And...?"

"I don't know! I don't know what it meant!"

"Try again."

"I just..."

"Used a past tense." He stared at her, openmouthed. "You did. It still means something to me, Draco."

"Don't tell me you're falling in love with a Slytherin," he sneered. Hermione reared back as if he'd slapped her. It wasn't possible. He was the heir to a large, pureblood family. He might not be sure if he wanted to be, but he still was. She was pure in a different way.

"Yes. Yes, I am falling in love with you," Hermione whispered, and Draco froze.

"Coward," he hissed.

"In what way am I a coward for owning up to my less than practical feelings?" she demanded.

"Not you. Me."

"Draco, really..."

"NO! I don't want to know!" His words set her eyes afire as she pegged him with a hard stare.

"Fine. Fine, I won't bother you anymore." And with a flick of her wand, Draco was free.

He wondered why it felt as if he'd just broken something.

"...can't believe she'd betray us like that!"

"Harry, really, try to be reasonable," Ginny sighed. The boy-who-lived was going to be the-boy-who-died if he didn't stop this soon.

"But she kissed Malfoy! Malfoy, Ginny!"

"I KNOW!" the redhead shouted.

"What? How?"

"Definitely not because it's all you've been talking about for the past two hours."

Harry sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

"She WHAT?"

"She kissed Malfoy," Harry repeated. He'd decided it would be best to inform his friend of some recent events.

"That bloody...she chose him over me?!" Ron angrily said. Harry warily looked at his friend.

"Mate...what do you mean 'over you?'" he carefully asked. Ron blushed.

"Er...didn't I tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um, you see, tried to, well, kiss her."

"When?"

"After you left the hospital wing?"

"She didn't like it, did she?"

"She slapped me and told that bastard to take her away."

"What were you thinking?"

"Uh, well, I like her, and I thought maybe she liked me too."

Harry did not have an awful lot of experience with girls, but he was pretty sure that was not the right way to find out something like that.

"Couldn't you just ask?"

Ron turned bright red.

"That would have been better, wouldn't it?" he mumbled.

 _ **A/N**_

 ** _I don't really have much to say about this. A lot of conversations, a lot of revelations, and well._**

 ** _Hope you like it!_**


	9. Chapter 9

SUNDAY, 6th OCTOBER 1996

"Hermione! Wait up!"

"NO!" Hermione yelled, rounding on Ron. "I am not waiting for you to shout at me!"

"But you-"

"Yes! Yes, I kissed him!"

Turning around, she ran to her dorm, collapsing on the couch.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" the witch sniffed.

"What...happened?" The words felt awkward, wrong somehow.

"Why do you care?" Blazing eyes met his.

Broken.

"Because I do! Merlin help me, but I do!"

"I know," Hermione whispered, "I just had to get you to admit it."

"But-all that time I've been stuck to the floor-"

Hermione smiled evilly and grabbed his tie, kissing him. Lips worked against his own, fighting a vicious battle for control.

"Not again! You really have to stop this!" Harry shouted.

"Shut up," Draco growled. Hermione just laughed.

"Does this mean I get to hold your hand?" she asked him, completely ignoring their audience.

"Not in your dreams!" Draco playfully retorted. "Everyone'll think I've lost my bite, you know."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not in the least," he smirked, leaning in to kiss her again.

"You two are going to be horrible, traumatizing parents," Harry grumbled.

For some reason, Hermione ran toward Harry and enveloped him in a hug.

"Did I miss something?" Draco asked, confused.

Both of them started laughing.

MONDAY, 7th OCTOBER 1996

"'Mione?"

"Yeah?" Hermione mumbled.

"Don't you think we should check on Harry?"

"Fine," the witch grumbled, getting out of bed.

When Draco merely turned on his side, she narrowed her eyes.

"You're coming too," Hermione stated.

"No, I'm not."

"And why wouldn't you?"

"Because I'm a lazy bastard."

"Not for long," she smirked. "Aguamenti!"

Draco yelped as ice-cold water streamed down his back.

"Hermione...!" he threatened.

"Catch me if you can!" she teased, running down the hall to Harry's room. Gently opening the door, she panicked.

The room was empty.

"DRACO!"

Hermione's panicked shout spurred him into action. Putting his revenge on hold, Draco skidded to a halt next to her.

"What's wrong?"

"Harry isn't here!"

"He's right there," Draco gently said, pointing toward the bed.

"Where?"

"I think he's somehow used his magic to Disillusion himself. I can sense his signature."

"How?" she asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Draco squirmed.

"It's...a trick I learned at home."

Hermione just nodded. Thankfully, she didn't press the subject.

"How do we get him to show himself to us?"

"No idea."

She sighed and went to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Uh...Harry? Can you stop the magic for a minute?"

Suddenly, the covers flew up, revealing a tiny boy.

"You used the M-word!"

Draco shared a confused look with Hermione.

"What word?"

"M-magic," the child timidly mumbled, cringing as if someone would hit him.

"That's not a bad word," Draco finally said.

"It's not?" Harry asked, bright green eyes looking up at him.

"Everyone here uses magic," Hermione decidedly said.

"You mean...you're a witch?"

"And I'm a wizard," Draco confirmed. "Though without a wand."

"I'm not giving it back to you."

"I know," he sighed. "Harry, how about you get dressed?"

The boy nodded, obediently walking toward his trunk.

"How does this work?" he asked, holding up a robe in confusion.

"First you put on trousers and a shirt, and then those robes," Hermione explained, walking forward to help the child, who seemed stunned.

"I can do it myself," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"But I'd like to help you," Hermione gently said.

"...really?" Harry disbelievingly asked, looking up at her.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because at home no one helps me. I help the others."

"What do they make you do?" Draco inquired.

"I can cook, clean the house and take care of the garden," the little boy proudly said. "I don't like my cupboard, though."

"Y-your cupboard?" Hermione stammered.

"Yeah. I sleep under the stairs, and they lock me up if I've done anything bad." He shrugged it off like it was nothing. "It's okay, there are lots of spiders to keep me company."

Hermione looked positively purple, and even Draco had to admit he hadn't expected this. He'd thought the famous Harry Potter would have grown up spoiled and luxurious, admired by everyone.

That clearly wasn't the case.

He saw Hermione take a deep breath.

"You don't have to do any of that here, okay?" she told their charge, who nodded and started dressing.

"We can't go to class with him like this," Hermione sighed. All through breakfast, people had stared at Harry. As in plain-out staring. As in a very rude thing to do. The other children, having both grown up in wizarding families, weren't very helpful either. She could tell Harry was baffled by suddenly being the centre of attention and not knowing why.

All in all, the situation was rather problematic.

"I know," Draco agreed. "You'd think he would be used to it by now."

"He didn't know about our world as a child," Hermione reminded the Slytherin. "From what I gather, the Dursleys didn't treat him very well."

"It's unbelievable, really."

"I guess so. It's also made him into the person he is today." She shook her head ruefully. "I couldn't even begin to imagine the size of his ego otherwise."

"He could do with some more confidence," remarked Draco.

"Yeah."

"Soooo...what now?"

"No idea. We cast a repulsment charm on him?"

"Draco!"

"Okay, okay. We'll just have to wait and see. Why, are you afraid of the bad Slytherins?"

"Your godfather, actually."

"Shit."

Again, that turned out to be an understatement.

"So, if you're all done admiring our saviour, maybe someone could tell me what Amortentia, which is the potion in this cauldron here, smells like?" sneered Snape. Hermione's hand shot into the air. After looking around to confirm no one else had their hands raised, Snape indicated with a curt nod that she could answer.

"Its smell differs for each person, based on their favourite scents. I, for example, smell parchment, freshly mown grass, and-" She went bright red and did not finish her sentence. Draco wondered what the third scent was. Sniffing the air, he perceived the cool freshness you got after heavy rainfall, something that reminded him of a crackling fire, and apples. Apples? Hermione's shampoo. Merlin, was it that bad? Was he in that deep? Fighting the urge to panic, looked at Harry, who was quietly playing with the toys Hermione'd given him. He didn't appear to be paying attention, nor did he seem scared of the bubbling fluid in the cauldron up front.

"Correct, Miss Granger. Now, please turn to page 120..." While Snape droned on, Draco silently pondered these new developments.

"Draco? Are you okay?" Hermione hesitantly asked. He'd been oddly silent ever since Potions. She hadn't wanted to quiz him about it earlier, but was getting tired of the tense silence. So, while walking toward their dorm after dinner, she took her chance.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he irritably snapped. Harry cowered behind her leg.

"I was just asking!" she defensively said, picking the child up. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Am I not allowed to think?"

"Of course you are! In fact, I highly encourage it, as long as you think about the right things."

"And who would determine what's right?"

"Everyone knows what's right."

"Do they? What about-"

"Okay! Forget I said that!"

"No, I'm curious. What did you mean by it?"

"Nothing, leave it!"

"I don't think I want to."

"You're such a-"

"Shall I beat him up for you?" Ron – who had just arrived – asked. Blushing, Hermione saw they had an audience.

"No, thank you, Ronald," she curtly said, grasping Draco by the wrist and pulling him along.

"Who was that?" inquired Harry, still cradled protectively in her arms.

"Ronald Weasley, though everyone calls him Ron. He used to be a friend of mine." She hoped her tone made it clear this was not a topic she was willing to discuss. The recent – could you call it a breakup? – was still much too fresh. Luckily, Harry got the message and was quiet.

Draco wasn't, though.

"So he's not your friend anymore?"

"I don't know. We've never had a fight this bad, and I think he's really mad at me." She sighed. "He has plenty of reason to be, really. I am, as he once put it, fraternizing with the enemy."

"I'm not your enemy!"

"Aren't you?"

When he opened his mouth, she cut him off by saying:

"On second thought, don't answer that. I'm not sure I want to know."

"Fine. I think you do, though." Grounding her teeth, Hermione called on every inch of her willpower to remain silent. Curiosity had always been one of her defining traits, and he was baiting her. She was sure of it, and would not fall for his trics.

She.

Would.

Not.

"...please tell me?"

"Why should I? I thought you didn't want to know." Draco smirked, enjoying himself.

Suddenly, someone bumped up against his leg.

"I'm so sorry!" someone wailed. Looking down, he saw a tiny Neville sitting on the ground. Clearly the child was still just as clumsy as his older counterpart.

"Neville, you can't just go running off without us!" Blaise – who was his guardian – scolded, having just caught up with the boy.

"M'sorry," Neville mumbled.

"It's okay," Hannah Abott told him. "Just don't do that again."

"I won't."

"Good."

"So, uh, how is he?" Draco awkwardly asked Blaise. He was not used to having real, meaningful conversations. Usually he just boasted, but it both felt wrong now.

"Well, he's...I guess he's normal? Silly, and fun, and he loves playing, so just a five-year old..." Blaise trailed off, obviously confused as to why Draco would ask such a question.

"Everything we weren't," he muttered, looking at the floor. The other boy seemed surprised for a few moments, until he softly agreed:

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, then, uh, we should be going, bedtime, and baths and all... Hermione?" he called out, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Just a minute!" she replied, deep in conversation with the Hufflepuff girl.

"For Merlin's sake, 'Mione! Was it really that important?" Draco was obviously not happy he had had to wait.

"It was only five minutes! It's not like I kept you waiting for hours!"

"Whatever."

"We should get started on our homework," Hermione sighed, frustrated.

"Yeah."

They worked in silence for a few hours, the only sound in the room the rustling of parchment.

"I'm tired," Harry complained. Looking at the clock, Hermione realised he should have been in bed an hour ago.

"You can go to sleep after you've had a bath."

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco whispered, going to sit on the edge of the bed.

"G'night, Draco," the child sleepily murmured. Draco smiled and gently smoothed the hair away from his forehead, feeling a strange tenderness.

When he re-entered the living room, Hermione smiled at him.

"So, um, Muggle Studies?" he asked her.

"You haven't started that essay yet?"

"It's difficult!"

"No it isn't. It's just about healthcare, that's very similar to Healing."

"Healing's difficult too."

"So are you!"

"Hey!"

"Admit it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"...Draco?"

"Yes?"

"What are we fighting about again?"

"No idea."

"Maybe we should stop fighting, then?"

"Brilliant idea!"

"You know, that's enough to make me want to start all over again."

"What is?"

"You!"

"I'll consider that a compliment."

"We're not getting any homework done, you know."

"Who cares about the bloody homework?"

"I do. And you should, too."

"Oh, really?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"You'd think it was about something...different."

"It isn't, Draco."

"But you could get the impression."

"It still isn't."

"Then what is it about?"

"Uh..."

"So it is about-" At that point, Hermione had clamped her hand over Draco's mouth. His tongue swiped softly along the centre of her palm.

"Yuck! Stop that!" she exclaimed, removing her hand.

"Now, are you that upset about a bit of tongue?" he cheekily asked. Pretty much growling in frustration, Hermione snapped:

"No, but you will be!" before proceeding to kiss her – whatever he was within an inch of his life, any lingering thoughts of homework long forgotten.

 _ **A/N**_

 ** _Okay, so I KNOW this is a bit of a filler, which isn't usually my style. This was the chapter from hell: it would. not. get. written! So anyway, I'm not quite pleased with it yet, but I'm sick of working on the damn thing._**

 ** _Either way, I'm currently writing chapter eleven. Chapter ten will have a confrontation in it, but I'm not saying with who...yet. Also, I adjusted the dates, as I discovered their sixth year wasn't in 1995 but 1996. This might cause a bit of confusion, but bear with me._**

 ** _Love you guys!_**


	10. Chapter 10

THURSDAY, 10th OCTOBER 1996

"Today I will teach you how to form a Patronus. Now remember, this is an advanced form of magic, which many witches and wizards are incapable of. Therefore, this will not count for your grades, though those who do manage to produce a Patronus, whether corporeal or not, will receive extra credit." Taking a deep breath, Professor Lupin went on. "Who can tell me how you cast a Patronus? Yes, Miss Granger?"

"The incantation is Expecto Patronum. But you also have to think of a very strong, positive memory. You have to let it fill you up." Before Lupin could interrupt her, she closed her eyes, remembering all the little moments she had shared with Harry and Draco in the last week, careful to avoid any sad ones.

"Expecto Patronum," Hermione whispered. Immediately, a silver beaver shot from the end of her wand, gracefully dancing across the room. With a flick of her wrist, the creature disappeared again.

"Although I do not recall asking for a practical demonstration," Hermione gave a guilty grin, "that was extremely well done, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. Apparently, some of you already know this spell? Would anyone who can produce a Patronus raise their hands?

Ron, Neville, Dean, and Parvati raised their hands. Lupin's eyebrows shot up. Hermione noticed Ron looked very angry.

"Well, that's a surprise. If I may ask, who taught you this?" The students looked around awkwardly, not knowing how to tell their Professor without confusing Harry.

"He's...not available at the moment," Dean eventually said.

"Understood. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Thomas, Miss Patil and Miss Granger, if you'd help the other students?" The class nodded and everyone set to practicing.

Feeling a tug at her robes, Hermione looked down.

"Can you do that again?" Harry happily asked.

"Of course, honey. Expecto Patronum!" For the second time that day, her Patronus appeared. She wondered when it had changed; last year it'd been an otter.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

"Mr. Malfoy, would you please refrain from yelling in class," Lupin admonished. Turning around, Hermione saw a red-faced Draco waving his wand around, causing other students to duck for cover as sparks shot from the tip.

"It's not about the wand movement, Draco," she said, suppressing a snicker. "The most important part is the memory. It has to be strong enough. Which one are you using?"

"When I won my first Quidditch match."

"That won't work. You need to find something that makes you smile, something you can feel in every fibre of your being, something you loved."

"Expecto Patronum," he tried again, and this time, a huge dragon came shooting out of his wand, opening its mouth in a soundless roar. Everyone stilled and stared at it.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy. Fifteen points to Slytherin for creating a magical, corporeal Patronus. Class, Patroni in the form of magical creatures are exceptionally rare, and require immensely powerful memories to be cast. Remember that. Now, back to practicing."

"What memory did you use?" Hermione asked Draco once they were back in the corridor. Avoiding her eyes, he muttered:

"Nothing special."

"You're lying," she accused. "You wouldn't have been able to form a dragon without an extraordinary memory."

"Fine, I am. But it's none of your business!" he snapped.

"If you don't want to talk about it, you could just have said so," she petulantly grumbled.

"This is new for me, 'Mione," he sighed. "I'm sorry for being so harsh with you."

"It's okay. It's not like you have to tell me everything."

"Thank you." Inwardly he was yelling at himself. What had Hermione done to deserve his behaviour? She had a right to know, but he couldn't tell her. She'd laugh at him. Still, a little voice in his head piped up, when had Hermione ever laughed at him? Okay, for silly things, but never about anything of this magnitude. But was it really that big of a confession?

"Draco? You're walking in the wrong direction," Hermione said, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Right. I knew that," he added, trying to imitate his usual sneer. Apparently it didn't look very scary, since his companion burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, scowling.

"You are! Merlin, it's not like you don't know your way around the castle!"

"I was thinking!"

"Did it hurt?" Harry cheekily asked. Openmouthed, Draco stared down at him. The child flushed.

"I heard 'Mione say that to Ron. I wanted to try it too."

"It's okay, though you shouldn't parrot me, Harry. You're smart enough to find your own words," Hermione told their charge, looking like she was holding back laughter.

"Okay," Harry solemnly agreed.

In the end, Draco realised, this didn't matter. Maybe, one day, he'd tell Hermione he thought of her. But if he didn't, it was okay.

That, he'd later reflect, was when he started to love her. For now, the revelation was still hidden deep inside his mind.

SATURDAY, 12th OCTOBER 1996

"Where do you want to go today?" Hermione asked Draco once they were seated in the carriage that'd take them to Hogsmeade.

"I, uh, have a few errands to run. On my own." She looked at him in concern. Yesterday evening, an owl had arrived for the pale-haired boy, and ever since then, he'd been oddly tense.

"Okay, I'll stay with Harry, then. I bet he'd like Zonko's...and maybe I could buy him a few Muggle clothes. He only has his cousin's."

"They'd be child-sized," Draco pointed out.

"I think if I put them in his trunk they'll expand along with the rest. It's worth a try."

"Smart," he grudgingly acknowledged.

"That's my middle name," she said, beaming.

Just then, the carriages came to a gentle halt. Hermione could see the Shrieking Shack in the distance, and shuddered, remembering what had taken place there last time.

"Draco! Wait!" she yelled, grabbing his wrist as he made to go Merlin-knows-where.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"I forgot, but...I can't leave you alone!"

"But..."

"So either I come along with you or", she continued, talking right through Draco's protests, "you go with me. Either way, you can't go on errands alone!"

"'Mione," he lowly whispered, leaning closer, "I have to go see my father. You can't go with me, he'd roast both of us alive! Please let me do this on my own."

"I can't. Dumbledore's orders," she regretfully said. "Believe me, if I could, I would."

"So what do we do now? My father expects me, and you obviously can't show yourself to him."

"Oh!" Hermione cried out. "I know just what we need!" Rummaging in her purse, she pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of it, feeling somewhat guilty for showing it to Draco without Harry's permission.

"What's that?" both boys asked.

"An Invisibility Cloak. Harry, you'll need to stay with Ginny for a while. Draco and I have something to take care of.

"Okay," the child readily agreed.

"Oi, Ginny! Over here!" Hermione called out. When the redhead was within a reasonable talking distance, she explained the situation, asking if she could look after Harry for a few hours?

"Sure, no problem," Ginny said. "How about we meet at the Three Broomsticks for lunch?"

"Great idea. Bye!" Hermione hurriedly said, as Draco was already pulling her along.

"Put that cloak on!" he hissed.

"I can't, not here! Everyone would see me disappear!"

"Fine!" he almost snarled, shoving her into a deserted alleyway. Hermione quickly lifted the cloak over her head, silently following Draco.

When they reached 'The Classic Wizard', which was an expensive, snobby sort of tearoom, she saw Lucius Malfoy standing near the entrance.

"Father," greeted Draco stiffly.

"Draco," Lucius said, returning the greeting just as formally. "I have reserved a private room for us." Slipping in after the two men, Hermione followed them to a bland-looking room in the back, where tea stood ready.

"You are late."

"Excuse my lacking timing. I had not anticipated having to shake the Mudblood off." Despite knowing he only said it to placate his father, she still winced.

"We are here", Lucius began, pacing around the room, "because the Dark Lord has requested you be given the Dark Mark." Hermione barely held back a gasp. She wondered what Draco would do, knowing she was there. Even though she had orders from Dumbledore, this still felt like intruding.

"When you come home for the Christmas holidays, he will give it to you personally. I, as your father, have been assigned the task of preparing you." Hermione couldn't help but notice Draco wasn't given a choice in the matter. Though his face remained impassive, she suspected there was a lot going on behind the shutters over his eyes.

"Father," Draco hesitantly said, swallowing, "I don't want to take it." He balled his fists, preparing for something. Moments later, she knew what, as Lucius had gone forward and slapped him across the face.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T TAKE IT?!" he furiously yelled, before lowering his voice. "You should be proud to serve, honoured by being given a means of directly contacting the Dark Lord. But what do you say? You really are a spoiled brat!"

Draco just looked at the floor. The lack of response seemed to make Lucius even angrier, and he shouted:

"YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN!"

Just then, the waiter arrived, looking scandalised.

"Sir, would you kindly keep family disputes within your own home! I request that you leave at once!"

Hermione made use of the distraction by grabbing Draco's wrist and hauling him out of that wretched place, not stopping until they were in front of the Shrieking Shack, ironically enough.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Draco mumbled, looking away and blinking. Hermione said nothing, waiting for the dam to burst.

"It's just...I've tried my whole life to please him, but he's never told me I did okay. Never held me, never...never said he cared about me. And I'm fed up with it, I don't want to be that way anymore, because half of them end up dead, and the other half turns insane. I lived with Bellatrix the whole summer," he spat out, "and she's...she's completely deranged. There's no trace of humanity left in her, and I...I don't want that. I never knew anything else, but..."

Gently approaching him, as though he was a wild animal she didn't want to scare away, Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's middle, pulling him to her. After a few tense moments, he relaxed in her arms, brokenly whispering:

"I guess I've just been disowned." Ashamed, he buried his head in her shoulder, and she could feel tears leaking out of his eyes and staining her robes.

"Do you...do you want to go to Dumbledore?" Hermione hesitantly asked, not sure if it was a good idea to bring that up just yet.

"Later," Draco softly said. "I'm done with the Dark."

"That doesn't mean you have to join the Light," she pointed out. "You could just remain neutral."

"Yes. But I don't want to. I want to rid the world of Bellatrix and the others myself." He shuddered. "Trust me, they're even more insane than you think."

Hermine quietly laughed.

"I believe you."

"Uh...how do we get inside?"

"Have you never been to Dumbledore's office before?" inquired Hermione in surprise.

"I haven't, actually. There wasn't any reason for me to, I'm a model student."

"Of course you are," she snorted. "Anyway, we'll have to guess the password. It's usually a type of candy."

"Lovely. Isn't there another way?"

"We could get a teacher. They all know it."

"I'm not sure I want to let them know-"

"A member of the Order of the Phoenix, obviously."

"Right. Who?"

"Professor McGonagall," seeing Draco shudder, she went on, "but she might not be very understanding. There's also Professor Snape, but I'd rather not go to him."

"So, we have to guess the password anyway?"

"Well...Professor Lupin is also a possibility...?" Hermione trailed off, unsure as to how Draco thought of him. He scrunched up his nose.

"That-"

"Draco! Don't you dare insult him! Actually, he's probably the best person to go to."

"And why would that be?" he disdainfully asked.

"Because Sirius Black-"

"Isn't he dead?"

"Yes he is, but he was disowned while at Hogwarts, too. He and Professor Lupin were very close friends."

"Fine," Draco reluctantly agreed. "But, uh, where's Harry?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ginny is watching him. He should be in bed by now."

"I thought for a minute we'd lost him," he said, relieved.

"You're just forgetful."

"Hey, I have a good reason to be!"

"That you do. Well, we're here," she said, knocking on the door.

"Uh, 'Mione..."

"Yes?" she answered, turning around at the apprehension she could hear in his voice. He pointed out the window. Hermione held back a faint gasp.

"It's a full moon," she breathlessly whispered.

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Sooo! I know it's been a ridiculously long time, and I'm very sorry.**_

 _ **About this chapter. First, I'd like to explain why Hermione's patrones is a beaver instead of an otter. That is because, clearly, she is not in love with Ron Weasley. And as it's a well-known HP fact that weasels chase otters, I thought I'd change her Patronus. I thought a beaver fit nicely ;)**_

 ** _So, Draco gets disowned. I hope I kept everything IC, but if not, do let me know. I love reviews, especially the critical ones. They help me improve._**

 ** _Should anyone be interested in beta-ing this story, any of my others, or one of the oneshots that are still residing on my computer, PM me :)_**

 ** _Love,_**

 ** _RodeRozen_**


	11. Chapter 11

SATURDAY, 12th OCTOBER 1996

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Just then, the door creaked open. Both Hermione and Draco slowly backed away, wands at the ready. Neither felt much for becoming wolf food, and so their poor professor was almost met with two Stunning Spells had he not ducked out of the way just in time.

Letting out a high-pitched whine, the wolf carefully walked backwards. Hermione frowned. That was not normal behaviour, and she could know, as she had almost been eaten by this creature in third year.

"Draco," she urgently whispered, "I don't think-" She never got the chance to finish her sentence, for Draco clamped a hand over her mouth, a look in his eyes that clearly said: 'don't draw attention to us, are you mad?'.

Shaking the hand off, Hermione approached the wolf, ignoring Draco's horrified gasp.

"Professor Lupin?" she softly murmured, aware of the wolf's heightened senses.

Ever so slowly, it nodded its head.

"Hermione, what's going on?!" Draco loudly asked. Noticing the wolf wince, she walked back over to Draco, explaining in whispered tones:

"He still has his own mind. I can only assume Professor Snape brewed the Wolfsbane."

"How do you know for sure?" he demanded.

"Because I've seen him without it, too. Trust me," she grimly said, "that's a whole different story."

"You mean he won't attack us?"

Both Hermione and the wolf rolled their eyes.

"An un-Wolfsbaned werewolf wouldn't have been sitting there, Draco. You'd be dog food by now." The wolf winced at this, whining again.

"Sorry," she said to it. Draco looked on in astonishment.

"You're talking to it as if it understands you," he stated. The wolf snorted. Hermione massaged her temples in frustration.

"Draco. I'm saying this one last time. Professor Lupin can understand us just fine, and is not going to attack you. Although," she added, looking in the wolf's direction, "I wouldn't blame you if the oaf keeps this up."

"Hey!" he indignantly protested. Hermione ignored him.

"Anyway," she said, addressing the wolf again, "we actually came to see you for the password to Dumbledore's office." It cocked its head. She prodded Draco, encouraging him to continue.

"Uh, well, you see," he said, obviously uncomfortable talking to what he perceived as an animal, "I sort of got disowned this morning." The wolf's eyebrows shot up in a gesture so strangely human, Hermione laughed slightly. It sent her a baleful glare, but turned its head to point toward them, and then the chairs. Understanding the gesture, she pulled Draco along into the office, ignoring his mumbled protests, and closed the door. The wolf looked rather relieved. Draco just looked tense.

"But, Hermione, it can't speak. How is this going to help us?" Although the wolf looked rather affronted, it walked over to Hermione and nuzzled her bag. Surprised, she dropped it, and the wolf began nosing around. It was only when a few...private products fell out of it that Hermione, red-faced, snatched it back up.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?!" she protested. The wolf just pushed its nose in her bag again, before yelping and jumping backwards.

"Professor! There's silver in there!" Hermione cried out in alarm. It glared at her, as if to demand why she hadn't said that earlier. Sighing, she removed the offending object, which turned out to be a notebook.

"A silver notebook?" Draco asked. "Really?"

"It, uh, was a present from my parents," she uncomfortably murmured. "I'm sorry, Professor." It wasn't a notebook, not really anyway. It was a magical diary, which burned the hands of anyone but its owner. Stuffing it in her pocket, she expectantly looked at the wolf, not noticing the weird look Draco gave her.

"Ehm, how does that fit?" he asked, pointing to her pocket.

"Bottomless enlarging charm," Hermione absently said.

"That's above N.E.W.T. level!" gasped Draco.

"Is it? I just found the charm, and well..." she awkwardly trailed off. She truly hadn't known it was such advanced magic.

The wolf barked once, as if to redirect their attention. Once they were both looking, it nuzzled her bag again. Hermione immediately grabbed it and started rummaging through the contents.

"I'll just look for whatever is in here myself. Is this it?" she asked, holding up the Marauder's Map.

"That is a scrap of parchment," Draco disdainfully said. The wolf growled at him.

"No it isn't," Hermione muttered, holding up the Invisibility Cloak. "This, then?" The wolf nodded. She raised one eyebrow.

"The plan is to use this to go to Dumbledore's office with the three of us, am I right? It nodded again. "I assume he's somehow charmed his door to open, then?" Nod.

"Are you sure that Wolfsbane works?" Draco nervously asked. Both Hermione and the wolf glared at him.

"Of course it does. You're still alive, aren't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she threw the cloak over Professor Lupin.

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"How often do I have to tell you this?!" Hermione asked Draco in frustration. During the entire walk he had kept complaining about danger and risks.

Bloody Slytherin.

"No, but-"

"Professor, can you please give him a detention for this?" she sweetly said, almost feeling the wolf rolling its eyes.

"We're here," Draco hurriedly interrupted her. The wolf walked forward, and the statues opened, allowing them to ascend the spiral staircase. Hermione knocked on the door.

"Come in, please," Dumbledore's serene voice called. "Ah, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy. What brings you here?" Draco looked toward the place where she assumed the wolf stood. Understanding the message, Hermione quietly said:

"Professor? Maybe you could take the cloak off?" Right away, the fabric fell to the ground, revealing the wolf.

"Ah, Professor Lupin. Good to see the charms are working," Dumbledore commented, clearly waiting for Draco to say something.

"Well, Sir, I...just this morning, I guess I got disowned."

"Pray tell, how did that happen? I was under the impression your father was quite adamant about having an heir?"

"He wanted me to take the Dark Mark," confessed Dracon in a remarkably steady voice, "and I didn't."

"I was with him," Hermione hurriedly added, "under the Cloak."

"No worries, Miss Granger. So, Mr. Malfoy, why have you come to me?"

"I want to join the Light," Draco firmly said. She was surprised at how quickly he had made up his mind.

"Not joining arms with the Dark would make you Light by default, I'd think."

"That isn't what I meant, Sir. I want to actively fight against the Dark."

"You would be turning you back on everything you knew," Dumbledore mused, peering at Draco over his glasses. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, Sir. I can't wait to fire that hex at my aunt..."

"While I doubt you'll fight against seasoned duellers such as Bellatrix, you might have valuable knowledge. Still, Mr. Malfoy, one cannot join the Order before coming of age." Hermione saw Draco wilt at this statement before Dumbledore continued:

"Still, we do have a few, ah, future members. The younger Weasley children, for example, and of course Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. While not fully informed, they are not kept in the dark, either. I expect you'd be able to join them."

"What about the summer holidays, Sir?"

"I'm sure we'll be able to work something out before then. For now, I'll floo the Weasleys tomorrow and let them know they can expect an extra guest for Christmas.

"I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind Draco coming, either. I'm staying with them for the second week of the holidays," Hermione explained.

"That's settled, then," Dumbledore said, twinkling down at them. "Off to bed you go."

Draping the Cloak over the wolf again, Hermione shook her head when it tried to give it back.

"We'll come and collect it tomorrow." Inclining its head, the wolf trotted off.

"Let's go," she quietly said to Draco.

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SUNDAY, 13th OCTOBER 1996

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"'Mione, why did I have to come along?" Draco whined. They were standing in front of Professor Lupin's office. Hermione propped Harry up on her hip, the child clinging to her as if afraid she'd leave him again.

"Why wouldn't you?" she asked in surprise.

"Because!"

She sighed.

"Listen, Draco. If you didn't show up here after last night, how would that go over?"

"He'd think he disgusted me," the Slytherin realised. "So what? It's true!"

SMACK!

"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione yelled, chest heaving. "Don't you EVER say that again!"

"Okay, okay, I won't! I still don't get why you're so touchy about this, though." She pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for patience.

Shrugging at her bizarre behaviour, Draco rapped on the door, seeming unperturbed by having been slapped in the face.

"Who's there?" a voice called out from the other side of the door.

"Hermione and Draco."

"Come in, then. Is Harry with you?" Lupin asked as Hermione pushed the door open.

"I am," the child timidly said, surprising her. She smiled at Harry. He truly was the most adorable thing.

"Mr Malfoy, I'm not going to eat you." said Lupin softly, smiling at them from where he was lying in his bed.

Hermione turned around to see Draco lingering on the threshold.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" she grumbled, grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him inside. "I'm very, very sorry for his behaviour, Professor." Behind her, the door softly closed. Disgruntled, Draco snatched his arm back, glaring at nothing in particular.

"That's alright, Hermione. You can't force someone to overcome prejudices. I'm used to it, anyhow."

"You shouldn't be."

"That's what my friends used to tell me. I'm afraid old habits die hard, though."

Hermione sighed, looking down.

"One day, I'll change all that. Professor," she continued, focusing her gaze again, "did the Wolfsbane not work properly? I could always ask H- uh, Seamus to drop a Dungbomb in Goyle's cauldron again..?"

"I'm still a teacher, you know. But no, it worked fine. Both of you being alive should prove that, as you so charmingly put it yesterday."

"I'm sorry, did I offend you? I was just wondering why you are bedridden."

"Didn't Professor Snape explain this to you in third year? A transformation is very taxing on the body, and I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Professor Snape only told us how werewolves were bloodthirsty monsters. You know, the usual," a certain ferret spoke up.

"Draco!" gasped Hermione. "That's just plain rude!"

"Oh, excuse me, Your Majesty."

"We're going," muttered Hermione. "I'll come back another time without Malfoy, Professor."

"I'll see you then," Lupin smiled.

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"DRACO MALFOY!"

"Yes?"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!"

"Ouch! Ow, Hermione, stop!"

"I WILL NOT! YOU ARE GOING TO APOLOGISE!"

"He's only a werewolf!"

"HOW OFTEN DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?!"

"Tell me WHAT?!"

Draco was really starting to lose his patience. Hermione stood in front of him, hands balled into fists, shoulders shaking.

"Tell you that...that-"

"I don't care. You're expecting too much of me. Now, can we just start on our homework?"

"You...oh, fine. Just...fine."

Nodding, Draco turned around to go get his books, when he heard a dull thud. Turning on his heel, wand drawn, at first he saw nothing. Then, Hermione's quivering form was visible on the floor."

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Let me tell you what's wrong," she sobbed. "Ron apparently has a crush on me, is not speaking to me anymore, and I miss him. Also, I'm not sure how things are between us, and you were just extremely rude to someone I care about. To top it off, some maniac wants to destroy the world, and everything is being torn apart, and I just can't stand it anymore. It feels like everyone is pulling me in a different direction!"

"Oh...'Mione, please don't cry. Just...take it one thing at a time. I'm sorry for being a callous bastard, and I'll apologise to Professor Lupin. We'll talk about us. I'll beat some sense into Weasley. The maniac, though, might take a little longer.

He saw the watery beginnings of a smile starting to form through her tears. Encouraged, Draco kneeled down next to his witch, gathering her up in his arms. For the longest time, they just sat there, clinging to each other.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Thank you," Hermione eventually whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I don't know what came over me."

"Pressure, expectations, and the world just being generally shitty," Draco nonchalantly said. A surprised laugh bubbled up, and she giggled softly, turning her neck to press a kiss to his jaw.

"You wanted to talk about us?" he inquired.

"No...well, yes, but I'm afraid of the results," she answered, looking down at her hands.

"Why? The only thing left is to give this a name, no? How about...soulmates?" he teased.

"Maybe we could start with something normal, like...boyfriend and girlfriend?" Hermione timidly suggested, brown eyes catching grey ones.

"Yes," Draco breathed, threading his hands through her hair and pulling her down for a kiss. Moaning, she clutched at his shirt, mouth opening on a gasp as he nipped at her lips. He made use of the opportunity to gently probe his tongue against hers.

"What are you doing?" a child's voice asked. Startled, the couple broke apart.

"Kissing," Draco stated.

"It looks gross," Harry commented, scrunching up his nose. Hermione laughed.

"It isn't. You'll see when you get older."

"Okay. Can we go to lunch now?" She looked down at the little boy. He'd gained a lot of confidence this past week, and now wasn't afraid to ask for things. She wondered how that'd affect the grown Harry.

"Let's go," Draco said, sending her a breathtaking smile. Hermione smiled back at him, entwining their hands.

Together, they could do this.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _ **A/N**_

 ** _Hi! I'm sorry about taking so long to update, but school has been crazy, and I've literally just finished writing this. I know it's rather short, but this seemed like a natural place for the chapter to end._**

 ** _I haven't started chapter twelve yet, and I'm kinda stuck, so suggestions are more than welcome! Where would you like to see this story go? Tell me!_**

 ** _So, I really wanted to do a scene with a transformed Lupin. I know 12th October 1996 was a new moon, not a full one, but it wouldn't fit otherwise, so let's just overlook that. And yes, I do research those dates._**

 ** _I'm also still looking for a beta, so if you're interested, PM me._**

 ** _Bye, guys!_**

 ** _RodeRozen_**


	12. Chapter 12

MONDAY, 14th OCTOBER 1996

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"You want some more cereal, Harry?" Hermione asked their charge, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They'd been in a bit of a rush that morning, as Draco had taken forever in the shower. Really, you'd think he had to tame his hair or something!

"I'm full," the boy said.

"Okay then." That was when she noticed Draco seemed a bit out of it. Normally he'd be fussing over Harry, ensuring he really had eaten enough. He'd make a good father, Hermione absently thought. Before she had the chance to ponder too much on that, owls arrived, swooping low over the students and startling a few first-year Muggleborns who still weren't used to it. She vividly remembered her own time as a first-year. Her mouth had never seemed to close, so astonished she had been.

A midnight black, stately owl deftly perched itself on top of the water jug, clicking its beak at them.

With trembling hands, Draco, who had gone very pale, untied the letter. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn't a Howler. That would have been...problematic at best, especially since she could take a pretty good guess at who the owl was from.

Draco stuffed the letter in his pocket without opening it. She frowned, unthinkingly reaching for the water jug.

Which still had a very annoyed owl on top of it. The animal bit her finger, quite hard.

"Ouch!" Hermione hissed, snatching her hand back to assess the damage. It was quite a deep cut. Luckily she'd thoroughly studied a variety of Healing Charms. There was, after all, a war going on, and you never knew when they might come in handy.

"Episkey," she muttered, pointing her wand at her hand. Immediately, the cut scarred over, before disappearing altogether. She softly placed her hand over her boyfriend's, and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Right, let's start on our homework." Draco hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

"What homework?" Hermione pointedly asked. They'd had tests in nearly all of their classes, with the others being practical lessons, and neither of them needed to practice the charms they'd learned, as those had been quite basic. Of course, he couldn't imagine Longbottom felt that way, but still.

"The extra credit essay for Charms?"

"Draco," his girlfriend slowly said, "that is meant for the students who still haven't mastered Aguamenti. I know for a fact both of us could do that one with our eyes closed." She narrowed her eyes. "This is about that letter, isn't it."

"What letter?"

"The one that was delivered by a rather aggressive owl."

"Stirling didn't hurt you, did he?" Draco anxiously asked, wringing his hands in front of him. He really, really did not want to be having this conversation.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He bit my finger. I'm quite good at Healing Charms, which is probably why you didn't notice." Even he could hear the sarcasm behind his, and he inwardly cursed her brains. Why couldn't she be oblivious to all these little things? Even so, it was one of the things that drew him to her.

"Please, Draco," Hermione softly said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me."

He turned on his heel sharply. How dare she patronise him so!

"I don't need your pity!" he snapped, sullenly shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Pity? Pity. Turn around," she ordered, voice dangerously soft, and Draco knew he had gone too far. Grudgingly, he complied, staring at her in defiance.

Without warning, she raised her hand to slap him, and he automatically raised his arms to protect his face. She froze, arm falling to her side. He started backing away.

"Draco...oh Merlin, I'm so sorry. I never should have...darn it!" She didn't seem to know what to say, just standing there helplessly.

"Go away. Just...leave me alone."

She nodded, running into their room with her hand clasped in front of her mouth.

Draco sank down on the couch, cradling his head in his hands. Bent forward and looking at the floor, at first he didn't notice Harry approach. Harry, who had apparently witnessed the whole thing.

"Why are you scared of 'Mione? She's really nice," the boy softly said.

"I'm not scared of her, I just...did the Dursleys ever hurt you, Harry?"

"Well, Uncle Vernon sometimes shoves me aside, and Dudley has a game he likes to play with his friends called Harry Hunting. They chase me, and whoever gets to me first beats me while the others hold me in place. It's why my glasses are always broken. But they don't always get me, because sometimes I'm faster and I hide somewhere they can't find me."

"My parents used to hurt me, Harry, just like Dudley hurt you. So when 'Mione tried to slap me..."

The child solemnly nodded. "You thought they were there. She shouldn't have done that." He made a face of distaste. "I'm sure she meant well. You were being a little stupid."

"I was, wasn't I?" he chuckled. "Hey, would you open my letter with me? I'm a bit scared for what might be in it." It felt strange, confiding in a five-year-old Harry Potter, but also freeing. He could definitely see the two of them becoming friends once Harry was changed back.

"Who's it from?" the kid asked.

"My mother. This is her handwriting." Taking a deep breath, he carefully opened the envelope, pulling a clean-cut sheet of parchment out of it.

Draco almost smiled when Harry put a tiny hand on his leg. Steeling himself, he began to read.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _It has come to my notice the Pater Familias disowned you. I must say I am terribly disappointed in you, now no longer my son._

 _With this letter I'd like to inform you I, as Mater Familias, am backing this decision up._

 _Regrettably, due to the old Pureblood laws we cannot forcibly take your inheritance as Heir of the Malfoy House away. Mark my words, though, because for as long as the Pater Familias lives, you shall not set foot on our property or waste our resources again. Your stench will no longer tarnish our reputation._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Narcissa Malfoy, neé Black, Mater Familias of the Malfoy House_

 _deferring to_

 _Lucius Malfoy, Pater Familias of the Malfoy House_

 _Saturday, 12th October 1996_

"That's it," Draco sighed. "That's as official as they can get."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"That I am disowned in every possible way." He leaned back against the pillows of the couch, the letter fluttering to the ground. "Maybe it's better this way."

The child seemed to consider his words.

"You were very rude to that teacher yesterday."

Draco tensed. Not this again!

"Why?"

"Uh..." What did he say now? If he let even an inkling of what werewolves were show, Hermione'd kill him. He wouldn't know how to explain that, anyhow. They were...they were vile, stank, and didn't have manners.

The part of his brain evaluating his own thoughts scoffed. Professor Lupin did not stink, nor was he vile. Actually, Draco wouldn't have known he was a werewolf had his Godfather not told the whole of Slytherin House. He thought of the Death Eaters. Did he want to be judged on who his family was?

"I...I don't know. He didn't deserve it."

Harry steadily regarded him.

"Maybe you should say you're sorry."

"You know what, Harry, I will."

"Can I come with you?" the kid asked, bouncing up and down.

"You like Professor Lupin, huh?" Draco wryly said, picking Harry and his wand, which he'd finally gotten back, up.

"He's fun!"

"I'm sure he is."

When they were almost out the portrait hole, Harry suddenly tugged on his hair, frowning.

"Shouldn't we tell 'Mione we'll be gone? She'll worry about us."

"No, we don't," said Draco, stepping through and pulling the portrait closed with a slam.

"Are you still mad at her?"

"A little. I just need some more time."

"Okay," the boy placidly replied, settling in against his chest. Draco smiled. Harry was such an easy child.

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"Who's there?" Professor Lupin called out, startling Draco. He'd been standing with his hand poised in front of the door for what seemed like an eternity, unable to bring up the courage to knock.

"Draco, Professor," he said in something that could hopefully pass for a steady voice.

"Come in."

Inch by inch he pushed the door open, pausing before stepping in.

"You know, I really don't bite," Lupin wryly said. "Oh, and close the door behind you, please. It is rather cold in the hallways." Draco quietly obliged, looking at his feet.

"So, what brings you here?" asked Lupin, leaning back in his chair. He was seated in front of a roaring fire. A tea-leaf appeared to be stuffed in between an old book, which was lying on the coffee table.

"I, uh..." Harry squirmed in his arms, and he set the boy down.

Who promptly went over to hearth.

"Harry! Not so close to the fire, you might get burned!" Draco said in alarm, rushing forward to pick the kid up.

"Lemme down! I wasn't that close!" Not believing a word of it, he sat down in the second chair and positioned the boy on his lap.

"Are you going to say sorry or not?" Harry demanded, pouting. Draco turned beet red. Lupin just looked on.

"As Harry so nicely said, I'm here to apologise," he eventually managed to say.

"Hermione chewed you out, did she?" Lupin asked with an all-knowing smile.

"What! No, Harry here did," Draco eventually managed. "Why would she?"

"Oh, aren't you together?"

"They are, sir!" Harry piped up, making his guardian blush.

"That's marvellous. Congratulations, Mr Malfoy."

"Draco, please. Malfoy reminds me of- of-"

"Well then, congratulations, Draco," Lupin kindly said, pretending not to notice his student getting emotional.

"Thanks. Well, uh, I probably should go back to Hermione. We kind of...got in a fight." Draco did not know why was telling Lupin all this, but if felt good to confide in someone.

"You'd better run along, then."

"Yes, Sir, thank you."

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Pausing with her quill poised over her parchment felt alien to Hermione. She usually knew all the information she needed right off the top of her head. But for the love of Merlin, she could not remember when that darned Goblin rebellion had been.

"Jar of honey," she heard Draco say from outside the portrait. Shit, shit, shit. Should she get out of the way? Cleaning her workspace up would take ages, though. She might have been a bit more messy than usual, and was now paying the price for it.

In the end, she just sat, frozen, as Draco entered the room.

"Hermione," he said, expression unreadable. "Can we talk?"

"Y-yes. Yes. Of course." Hastily, she swiped at the parchments, forgetting the inkwell buried among them.

It fell to the floor with a loud clatter, making Crookshanks jump.

"Shit!" she swore, using her wand to clean up the mess. "My essay!"

Well, it was only History. Loathe as she was to admit it, the subject wasn't exactly essential.

After stuffing her material hastily away, Hermione relocated to the sofa, where Harry was already playing with some toy or other.

"Harry, could you leave us alone for a second?" Draco gently asked, crouching down to the child's height. Nodding, he happily skipped off to his room.

Draco sat down next to her, his side touching hers. Hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, breaking the silence. "I never should have slapped you."

"You shouldn't've, I agree. But, Hermione," he softly murmured, "you couldn't have known. You'd slapped me before, and I didn't react that way. It was just that seeing my father shortly before..."

"That doesn't make what I did okay, Draco," she sighed, hesitantly resting her head on his shoulder.

"It doesn't. You obviously have a nasty temper, you brash Gryffindor," he teased, laying his head on top of hers.

"I know. Would you believe Harry and Ron are far worse?"

"Strange, I do. Who knew I'd ever know a Gryffindor so well?"

"What am I supposed to say, then?" Hermione retorted. "You're a Slytherin!"

"I'm also yours," Draco said, completely serious now.

"I know. I love you, and I'm yours too."

"I love you too," her Slytherin sighed.

It felt right.

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FRIDAY, 18th OCTOBER 1996

"He's going to turn back today," Hermione stated, flipping through a book on shield charms.

"He is," Draco agreed. The three of them were sitting in the library, with Harry playing under the table so as not to attract suspicion from Madam Pince. They were getting rather a lot of weird looks from fellow students.

"Ron still isn't speaking to me, and I really don't know how to salvage...whatever is left of us."

"I'm probably the worst person to go to for advice on those things, you do realise?"

"I know," Hermione tenderly said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her boyfriend's ear.

THUD!

Alarmed, both of them looked under the table, where a very grown Harry sat, nursing a bump on his head.

"Whose idea was it to stuff me under the table?" he demanded, mock-glaring at them.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, not noticing Draco was looking quite uncomfortable.

Climbing to his feet, her best friend slowly extended a hand toward him.

"Friends?" Harry asked.

"Friends," Draco confirmed after a short pause, shaking hands with Harry.

"HARRY!" a ginger-haired, lanky boy yelled in outrage. Hermione inwardly cringed.

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"So? What have you brought me here for?" Ron demanded. Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"Ron, as your best mate I'm asking you to get over yourself. No, scratch that. Just...just stop being a prat."

"I have a right to love who I want to, Ronald," Hermione calmly added. "I understand that you don't like Draco, but at least try to tolerate him. I've done the same with Lavender last year." (A/N: I know Lavender was sixth year...but I'm changing that. No killing the author!)

Draco was looking at his feet, head buried in his hands. Harry worriedly eyed him. Hermione briefly made eye contact, signalling she'd deal with it.

"Draco," she gently said, taking his face in her hands, "I was under the impression this conversation is much more interesting than the floor, but I might be wrong. Care to enlighten me?"

Harry watched as, with a weak chuckle, Draco lifted his head, gently kissing Hermione and softly murmuring something to her.

Ron looked like he was ready to explode.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco and Hermione exchanging a few more words, before, determination in his gaze, Draco locked eyes with Ron.

"I apologise for the necklace, Ronald, and I thought you should know that I am in no way affiliated with the Dark."

Ron seemed to process this. Harry tried not to laugh, either at the awkwardly formal way Draco had phrased his apology, or Ron's constipated expression.

"Okay," the ginger eventually said, "okay. I don't forgive you, but I'll try to...not hate you."

Smacking his friend upside the head, Harry sighed, sending the couple across from them an it's-the-best-we-could-hope-for look.

And so, even though all was not well – there was, after all, still a maniac trying to rule the world – it was okay. It was okay, and maybe it would get better, and maybe it would get worse.

But right now, it was okay.

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **OH MY GOD, I finally god around to writing this!**_

 ** _I know I didn't announce this was the last chapter, which is because I didn't know that either until I wrote it. It just...felt finished._**

 ** _I will probably be doing an epilogue, but that might take a while. Think several weeks, if not months. It'll probably be about Christmas at the Burrow, and maybe an additional, short one about how seventh year went, and well. We'll see how much inspiration I have._**

 ** _Please, please let me know what you thought of the story. I'm curious if it lived up to your expectations, what you would improve, and so on._**

 ** _If you want, I have a short enquete with questions I'd like the answers to._**

 ** _1\. Was the character development somewhat realistic, taking into account the story isn't very long?_**

 ** _2\. Was there enough conflict, or too much? Too little?_**

 ** _3\. How was the balance humor/drama?_**

 ** _4\. What do you think will happen on the Horcrux hunt?_**

 ** _5\. How would you like the Hinny get-together?_**

 ** _(the last two questions are for the epilogues(s), guys!)_**

 ** _THANK YOU FOR READING!_**

 ** _RodeRozen_**


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